Over the Edge
by Carol
Summary: (Completed) Alternative to The New Stuff. As Darien descends closer to permanent madness, how far will a friend go to save him from himself and from the ruthless clutches of the Official?
1. Prologue

Over the Edge (Prologue)

By Carol M.

Summary: Alternative to The New Stuff. As Darien descends closer into permanent madness, how far will a friend go to save him from himself and from 

the ruthless clutches of the Official?

Spoilers: Possessed, Enemy of my Enemy and issues and events brought up in The New Stuff

Rating: PG-13 to R maybe 

Disclaimer: don't own em, only love them (even though I tend to hurt them a lot)

Note: This one poses the question of what would have happened if the Official had taken away the QSM cure before Claire had a chance to give it to Darien. The fic starts at the last scene of Enemy of My Enemy and goes off on it's own road from there. It's going to be very angsty, very torturous (aren't they always), and probably pretty long. If you want a theme song for this fic, try listening to Enya's "Exile." It's a very moody piece of music that just seemed to fit with the tone I wanted for the story. Anyway, kick back, relax and enjoy the ride. It's gonna get rough so bring the ropes!

Claire's POV

The sound was what startled me. A sound I've heard hundreds of times before, but somehow at that moment, it took on a whole new meaning. A simple swish of the Keep door was all it was. Quiet and non-threatening. I jumped about a mile in my chair.

But what was worse was the sound that came after the swish. It was the sounds of desperate breathing. And the words. God, the words made my blood run as cold as the quicksilver that you excrete from your gland. "Just tell me you got the goods before he escaped…please," you whispered so hopefully.

My heart skipped a beat, and I wanted to spill everything. How the Official had made it clear that without the control of the quicksilver madness, he wasn't interested in keeping you as a gland receptacle. How he had destroyed Arnaud's hard drive, taking with it everything I needed to cure you. How he had destroyed every file on my computer and every piece of equipment that could be of any use. How I was left with nothing but a vague trace of your Holy Grail. But I couldn't tell you. You probably wouldn't have believed me if I had. Besides, I figured the truth would hurt more. So I lied. I lied.

"I'm sorry," I choked out as I turned around in my chair, unable to hide the tears that wanted to spill out of my eyes and out of my heart. 

You gazed at me with those brown eyes of yours, the expression piercing deep into my core and forming an image that I would never be able to forget. You swallowed loudly, as if you were trying to keep down whatever was left of your battered heart and mind. I watched as you uneasily made your way to the chair by the computer, looking as if you would pass out if you continued to stay on your feet. You breathed in panicked desperate gasps, the sound sending chills up my spine. "It's okay, you know…it's not your fault," you said, trying so bravely not cry. 

"Is there anything I can do?" I asked, trying to do something to ease your pain.

"I uh…I guess I need a shot," you admitted so painfully that it took a super human effort for you talk and not burst out into tears at the same time.

"Don't get up," I said, as if that one minor luxury means a bloody thing.

I got up and quickly located a vial of counteragent along with a syringe. A few hours ago and I could have cured you with that syringe, but now, now it's all gone. I sat next to you and prepped the syringe, trying to ignore the small controlled breaths flowing from your mouth. You were trying so hard not to cry in front of me. You were so brave Darien. 

When the needle was finally ready, I plunged it into your vein as I have done hundreds of times before. You didn't make a sound and seemed to be in a trance. I guess I would have been as well if I were in your place. When the injection was finished, I set the needle aside and glanced at your tattoo, noticing two segments had stayed red. You didn't look because I don't think you wanted to know.

And then there was that sound again. That swish of the Keep door. "Hey Fawkes," said Bobby as he burst through the door, ignorant of the conspiracies that had taken place over the last couple of hours.

"Hey man," you breathed, inhaling remnants of the tears that never quite fell.

"Wanna go for a round interrogating the brat pack?" asked Bobby, intent on doing something to distract you from Arnaud's escape.

You shrugged. "I guess I could always use a little cheering up," you said as you stared down at the cotton ball soaking up the bloody dot from the injection. And then you looked at me with this look. This look of trust and fear and hope all wrapped into one. It made my heart clench and my mouth go dry. You tapped my leg in reassurance and then stood up, discarding the cotton ball as you walked out the door. 

I couldn't hold the tears back this time. The door swished closed and I was gone. Those looks, those eyes, that hope. You trust me to do to the right thing. You trust me with your life. 

Maybe at the beginning of this journey I could have done it. Betrayed you. Kept you locked up like an insane prisoner until the Official decided to take his precious gland back. But not now. We've come much too far. I can't hurt you. I won't hurt you. 

I firmly grasp the syringe that has gone into your arm a billion times, hating it, despising its very existence. I crushed the bloody thing. I crushed everything it stood for. And I made a decision. I will help you, Darien. I'll figure something out. The Official won't get away with this.

TBC


	2. Part 1

Over the Edge (1/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Bumps a'comin very soon. Don't say I didn't warn you. Enjoy!

Three weeks later

The barrel was cold against the inside of Darien's mouth. Cold and tasting of steel. It was suffocating in its size, causing his breaths to come in rapid, shallow pants. Of course, that might have been from the fear, he couldn't be sure.

The hand that held the gun was shaky and every few seconds was splattered with teardrops that fell from his eyes. The tears rolled off his hand and fell to the floor, forming splotchy dots on the cheap carpeting of his apartment.

"Come on, do it, pull the trigger," he whispered through the tears. "Die your way, not theirs."

He breathed in then, nearly choking on his own snot. "Please forgive me," he hoarsed out. His finger tightened around the trigger and then hesitated, an idea popping into his head.

He slid the gun out of his mouth, shivering at the teeth on metal contact. He quickly whipped the gun around to the back of his head, pressing it against the area where the gland was located. "I go you go, you little bastard," he whispered in an oddly determined voice. He took a deep breath and put his finger firmly against the trigger, closing his eyes. Images of Bobby, Claire, Alex, Eberts and even the Official assaulted his senses, causing him to grimace as if in pain. A single tear dripped down from his closed eye and formed a small puddle on his collarbone. "It's been swell kids. See ya later." His eyes clenched in fear and hesitation for a moment, and then he pushed down on the trigger as hard as he could.

He expected a boom. He expected pain and blood. He expected darkness. What he didn't expect was a soft click. He pushed the trigger down again and heard the same soft clicking noise. He quickly removed the gun from the back of his head and stared down at it, realizing that the safety was on. His heart started to beat so loudly he thought he would die of a heart attack right there. "Oh god," he whispered in a terrified tone as he realized what he had almost succeeded in doing. 

"Oh my god," he whispered as his legs gave out from under him and he fell to the floor. He leaned his head down against his knees and didn't fight the waterfall of tears that started to pour from his tired eyes. They went on for what seemed like hours until he was sure he had cried out every tear his body would ever produce. He sat up, sniffling loudly and stared down at the gun that was still firmly planted in his hand. His heart skipped a beat and without hesitation, he threw the gun as hard as he could across the room, where it landed on the floor next to his window. 

He looked down at his hand, almost expecting to see some kind of scar from the memory of the gun. His gaze drifted to where the gun was resting on the floor, and he visibly started to shake with chills. "No," he said loudly. "Not today." He glanced over at his unmade bed and then got on his hands and knees, crawling slowly towards the comfortable sanctuary. He pulled himself onto the mattress and then buried his head under a sea of blankets and pillows, his body and mind shutting down almost instantly. And that was where he fell into an exhausted sleep, temporarily pulled out of the reality of going permanently insane in a matter of weeks. 

**

Several days later

The fourth blow from Alex's high heeled boot into Darien's midsection would have hurt terribly if he hadn't been in Stage 3 madness. As it was, Darien wasn't really feeling much of anything except the need to pummel both Alex and Bobby. 

This of course was after the five Chrysali that he had already taken down. A simple tip from Hobbesnet and a boring stakeout had quickly escalated when the agents had found out that the rundown building they had been watching all day was the current keeper of the quicksilver Chrysalis had milked from the cows at the vineyard several weeks earlier. Darien had quicksilvered to get a better look inside and then all hell had broken loose. In the end, the quicksilver was deftly removed from the facility by a few Chrysalis members while Bobby and Alex struggled outside to tame their psychotic partner, who had decided he'd had enough of stakeouts, Chrysalis and quicksilver.

"Come on, Fawkes, you need to calm down, we need to give you the counteragent," said Alex as she stood in a defensive position in front of Darien.

Darien took in a breath and let it out, humming pleasantly. "Oh, I am calm, Monroe," he said with a seductive smile. "You're the one who needs to calm down," he said as he walked towards her and smacked her across the face, sending her to the ground.

"Fawkes, stop!" yelled Bobby as he jumped on Darien's back. "Just stop it," he yelled with anger as he dug his shoes into Darien's sides.

Darien responded by backing up against the wall behind him hard, knocking Bobby to the ground. He was about to hit the fallen agent when his legs were swept out from under him. He landed on the ground heavily next to Bobby, the air knocked from his lungs.

He stared up at Alex's form standing over him. "That wasn't very nice," he said to her breathlessly. He lunged towards her and was knocked back to the ground when she placed a hard karate chop to his throat. He gasped on the ground, trying to get air into his lungs. 

Bobby got up quickly to assist Alex. "How the hell are we going to do this?" he asked her as he took a syringe of counteragent out of his pocket. When Darien saw it, he immediately lunged at Bobby, his arms reaching towards Bobby's neck. "Fawkes," yelled Bobby as he took a step back out of Darien's reach. 

Alex took the opening and placed a hard kick to Darien's face. The force of the blow smacked his head against the concrete, knocking him into a semi-conscious daze.

"Now Hobbes!" shouted Alex urgently.

Bobby nodded and stepped forward, carefully inserting the needle into Darien's neck. Darien groaned and tried to get away from his partner, but Bobby was too fast for him. He quickly pressed down on the plunger and the contents of the shot flooded Darien's body, sending the younger man into complete unconsciousness.

Bobby dropped the needle on the ground and then leaned against the wall for a second, trying to catch his breath. "Damn that was a bad one," he as he ran a finger over his lip to wipe away a drop of blood. He glanced up at Alex, noting a small scrape on her cheek. "You okay there, Monroe?" he asked.

Alex nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," she said as she stared down at Darien's still form. "It's getting worse for him, isn't it?" she asked, the smallest amount of concern flashing through her green eyes.

Bobby sighed and nodded. "It isn't pretty, that's for sure," he said, gazing sympathetically at his still unconscious partner.

Alex stared down at them for several more seconds and then cleared her throat. "Well, I'm going to see what's left of Chrysalis inside," she said as she stepped over the two of them and started walking briskly towards the Chrysalis safe house.

Bobby watched her disappear into the building and then turned his attention back to his partner when he heard a small groan escape his lips. "That's it buddy, wake up," he whispered with encouragement.

Darien's eyes fluttered several times and then opened for real, his gaze filled with confusion and pain. He craned his neck to look up at Bobby and instantly regretted the motion as not only pain, but nausea swept through his body. "Oh," he groaned out.

Bobby put a supportive hand on the back of his neck and forced him back to the ground. "Easy Fawkes. You got knocked around a bit."

Darien glanced up at him, noticing the blood still leaking out of his mouth. "I do that?" he said in a tone that was more a statement then a question.

Bobby moved his finger once again to his bloody lip and wiped it off, shrugging. "This is nothing, kid. A mere scratch. You on the other hand, you're another story."

"Monroe?" whispered Darien as he struggled up into a sitting position.

Bobby nodded towards the building. "Inside checking out for parasites. Barely broke a nail."

Darien bit his lip and nodded, glancing down at his wrist. "Four out of seven ain't bad, right?" he asked, flashing Bobby the four red segments that had not been filled by the counteragent. "Only a matter of time before this thing doesn't fill at all you know. Think the Official's gonna keep me out here until then, you know, get his money's worth?"

Bobby cringed. "He'll have to go through me to do it, buckwheat," he said as he stood up and grabbed Darien's hand to help him off the ground. "Come on, I'm taking you to the Keep."

Darien accepted the hand and stood up, cradling his ribs with his arm. "Naw man, I'm fine. I just wanna go home and lie down."

Bobby furrowed his brow. "I think Claire should really check you out," he said as he glanced at the bump on the side of Darien's face and the blood spilling from his nose. "You might have a concussion or some cracked ribs even," he said as he noticed the delicate way Darien held his midsection.

"Hobbes, really man, I'm fine. Can you please just take me home?" asked Darien in a tone that was bordering on begging.

Bobby thought for a minute and against better judgment decided to take Darien up on his request. "All right," he said as he slung Darien's arm over his shoulder and started walking him towards Golda.

The pair walked in silence until Darien stopped suddenly, causing Bobby to nearly fall to the ground. "What? What's wrong?" he asked urgently.

"I'm sorry," said Darien softly.

Bobby shrugged. "What, what for…for this?" he asked pointing at his lip. "Fawkes this is…"

"Nothing I know," interrupted Darien. "I just mean I'm sorry for all this. Sorry you got a partner who goes nutso and tries to kill you."

Bobby turned so he was looking Darien in the eye. "Stop apologizing," he said with a stern look. "You hear me?"

Darien nodded.

"Good," said Bobby, satisfied. "Let's get you home," he said as he once again grabbed a hold of Darien and led him towards Golda.

**

"Maid on vacation, Fawkesy?" asked Bobby twenty minutes later when they arrived at Darien's apartment. The small loft was a mess of clothes, books, food and dishes.

Darien shrugged and let Bobby help him into his bed. "Well I figured, you know, only got a couple of weeks left, why waste them cleaning?" he said as he crawled under his covers.

Bobby let go of his arm and stared down at him with disdain. "That's it?"

"Excuse me?" said Darien with confusion.

Bobby shook his head and walked into Darien's bathroom. "You've just resigned yourself to the fact that there's no hope? Is that what you're saying here?" he asked as he came out of the bathroom with some antiseptic and bandages. He sat down on the bed next to Darien and began wiping up the bloody cuts on Darien's face.

Darien flinched when the antiseptic hit one of the bloodier gashes. "Ahhhh," he hissed. "Hobbes, look around, does there look like I have much hope?"

Bobby shook his head in frustration and applied a few bandages to Darien's cuts. "You're a fool, Fawkes. You're better than this. Hell, you're more stubborn than this. The Darien Fawkes I know would be going into the extra inning, not sitting the game out in the locker room."

"Hobbes, this whole baseball analogy is beautiful, really it is, but I can just get some sleep?" said Darien as he curled his arm around his waist and lay back in his bed.

Bobby smirked and headed towards the kitchen to get some ice. "You're gonna let this happen to yourself?" he said in an angry tone.

"Well I don't think I have much of a choice here," answered Darien. "I don't see Claire suddenly coming up with some solution, and Arnaud has pretty much disappeared with his magical formula. All and all, I'd say I'm pretty much screwed."

Bobby shook his head as he returned from the kitchen and came up next to Darien, smacking down an icepack hard on his partner's stomach.

"Owwww," yelped Darien. "What the hell was that for?"

"For regressing back to the punk you were when I first met you," said Bobby sharply as he sat down on the bed next to Darien. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You can do this. You're stronger than…" Bobby stopped mid sentence as he gazed at something on the floor.

"You're stronger than…what?" asked Darien, waiting for the answer.

Bobby ignored him and got off the bed, retrieving the item that had caught his eye. He held it up for Darien to see. "Since when do you own a gun?"

Darien's eyes clouded over in fear. "Hobbes," he said with apprehension.

"Were you going to off yourself? Just like that? No goodbyes…no notes…no nothing?" asked Bobby, his tone getting angrier and angrier by the second.

Darien shrunk back in his bed, suddenly very frightened of the small man standing before him. "I don't know," he said in a flustered voice.

"You don't know?" screamed Bobby as he carefully took the bullets out of the gun and started chucking them one by one at Darien, who had to hold up his arm to protect himself from getting hit in the face. 

"Hobbes!" yelled Darien when one of the bullets conked him hard in the arm.

Bobby was undeterred and continued to throw the bullets. "You think this is gonna solve everything don't you? Real easy way out, right kid? Screw the big bad Official, screw the gland and most of all screw your partner. Just gonna take yourself out and end this before it gets too hard," he said as he threw the final bullet from the gun at Darien's face.

Darien ducked away from the bullet and then glared at Bobby. "It wasn't like that," he said as he swept all the bullets that had landed on his bed onto the floor.

"Sure it was," said Bobby. "You're being selfish. What about me? What about Claire? What the hell are we supposed to do if you blow your brains out, huh? You think were just gonna go about are daily routine like it never happened?"

"I'm sorry," whispered Darien.

Bobby nodded. "Damn right you're sorry."

Darien stared at Bobby for a second and then shook his head. "No, you know what? I'm not sorry! I'm not sorry, Hobbes. This thing in my head is eating me alive, okay! I'm dying. As soon as my eyes hit permanent silver, I'm gone. The Official will have this gland out of my head so fast it'll make your head spin! You don't know what that feels like!" he shouted, dangerously close to tears.

"Yeah, I guess I don't," said Bobby. "But I know what feels like to want to die. Been there and done that several times, my friend and let me tell you, it's not the answer."

"Doesn't really much matter where the bullet comes from, Hobbesy, because in a few weeks it'll be adios to your good buddy Darien Fawkes. What's it matter if it's from my gun or from the Official's scalpel?" asked Darien.

"Because you're better than that. Because you're supposed to have hope. Because you're supposed to believe in miracles. Damn it, you're supposed to believe in me…in Claire…hell, in yourself," yelled Bobby.

"Well I don't anymore, okay!" shouted Darien, a few tears streaming down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away in embarrassment. "I just want this to end!" he screamed, looking down at his blanket.

Bobby stepped forward and pulled him up by the hair so they were face to face. "You're pathetic."

Darien shook his head, sniffling. "I'm not pathetic!"

Bobby smirked and shook his head. "You're so pathetic. You're just ready to give up on everything and everyone in your life because you're tired! What a waste you are! There are people who love you and genuinely care for you and your selfish ass is gonna let them all down. Just rid the world of Darien Fawkes for good without so much as a whimper or a scream!" shouted Bobby.

"Stop," pleaded Darien in a cold tone.

"Yeah, you know, what good are you anyway?" asked Bobby, ignoring Darien's pleas. "All you do is sit around and bitch about how much your life sucks. How you got dragged into this job and this life that you didn't want, and now you bitch cause it's all gonna end. You're no hero Fawkes. Not like this. Hell, maybe you should have been the one to die at the compound and not your brother. At least he died with a little honor," shouted Bobby, who regretted the harsh words as soon as they left his mouth. 

A look of hurt washed over Darien's face and he quickly looked away, not wanting Bobby to see the new tears that had sprung from his eyes.

Bobby took an awkward breath. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "Fawkes, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," he said, trying to catch Darien's eye.

Darien inhaled sharply and shrugged. He put on an emotionless gaze as he finally looked up at Bobby, trying to hide how much his partner's words had really hurt him. "Maybe you're right," he said.

"No…Fawkes," said Bobby in an apologetic tone.

Darien shook his head. "No, it's okay, man. Let's just cool off and get things straight in the morning."

"I really am sorry," said Bobby in a sincere tone.

Darien nodded. "I know. Me too," he said softly. "Let me get some sleep, okay?"

"Yeah," said Bobby, nodding. He put Darien's gun in his pocket. "Wouldn't want you doing anything stupid in the night," he said as he met his partner's uneasy gaze.

"Probably a good idea," said Darien as he lay back in his pillows. "Get outta here. I'll see you tomorrow."

Bobby hesitated for a minute, looking like he wanted to say something and instead, simply nodded. "Seven. Be awake," said Bobby.

"Seven," repeated Darien. "I'll try," he said, waving him off.

Bobby took one last look at his partner and sighed heavily. "See ya buddy," he said as he stepped out the door.

"Later," responded Darien. He watched Bobby leave and then curled around the ice bag on his gut, letting the cold do its thing and numb up his bruised torso. Minutes later, he fell into a troubled sleep, forgetting to set his alarm.

TBC 


	3. Part 2

Over the Edge (2/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details.

Be warned, it's about to go downhill. Enjoy it!

As it turned out, Darien didn't need his alarm clock the next morning. He had awoken at four with a horrifying quicksilver madness nightmare and had been unable to fall back asleep. Instead, he had stared at the clock for three hours until it had reached seven a.m. Bobby would be knocking on his door any second.

Tossing the icepack aside, which was now basically a bag of water, Darien got out of bed and shuffled towards his bathroom, looking forward to a hot shower. His cuts and bruises from the night before had swelled considerably in the night and he figured some steaming water was just what the doctor ordered. He stepped into the shower and turned on the water, determined to stand under the spray until all the hot water was gone or until his partner forcibly dragged him out, whichever came first. Twenty minutes later, the water went from hot to freezing, forcing Darien out of the semi-tranquil trance that the shower had put him in. He stepped out, wrapped a towel around his thin torso and then stepped out of the bathroom, trying to figure out what to wear.

A quick glance at the clock told him it was 7:30 and that Bobby was nearly a half hour late. As Darien decided on a gray tight fitting T-shirt and faded black jeans, he concluded that Bobby was simply stuck in morning traffic. When another half hour passed and Bobby still hadn't shown up, Darien began getting a little anxious. He sat down on his bed and picked up his phone, dialing Bobby's number. Five rings and one answering machine later, Darien had left a message to Bobby to call him. He frowned slightly as he hung up the phone and then picked it up again, dialing Bobby's cell phone number. When this attempt was answered by voice mail, Darien started to get a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He paced the apartment for another fifteen minutes, hoping that Bobby was running late and had forgotten to turn on his cell phone. Another fifteen minutes, and Darien was grabbing his keys and jogging down to his car, eager to find his partner.

He quickly got into his old Ford and tore down the street, uneasiness pulsing through his whole body. Ten minutes later, he pulled up to Bobby's apartment, sighing slightly in relief when he saw Golda parked outside. Must have overslept, thought Darien as he got in through the front door of the apartment building and quickly walked to Bobby's apartment. He reached the door and started knocking loudly. "Hobbes?" he yelled through the door. "Hobbes, you there?" he yelled.

When he got no answer, Darien looked up and down the halls and then nonchalantly pulled a lock pick out of his wallet. He worked the wires into the lock and had the door open in a matter of seconds. "Hobbes, I broke in, don't kill me," said Darien as he cautiously stepped into the apartment. The foyer and living room was quiet and normal looking, nothing to indicate any kind of foul play. "Hobbes?" yelled Darien once again as he stepped towards Bobby's bedroom. "Buddy, you better not be naked in there," he said in a light tone. "Hobb…oh god," he ended his words in a whisper as he stepped fully into the bedroom and saw firsthand why Bobby hadn't been at his apartment to pick him up. Bobby was on the floor still dressed in pajamas, his stocky torso covered in blood. Next to him, lay a sharp knife, also stained with blood. "Bobby," said Darien urgently as he knelt down next to his partner, checking for a pulse. He found his partner's pulse to be quick and thready. "Bobby, come on man, answer me," he said as his hand grazed Bobby's arm, trying to figure out where he was hurt. There was so much blood that Darien couldn't even determine where his injury was. "Hobbes," he said, his voice cracking loudly.

"Fawkes," he heard Bobby whisper out of his mouth.

Darien ran a gentle hand down Bobby's face. "I'm gonna get you outta here, buddy" he said with a forced calmness as he reached under Bobby and lifted him into his arms, ignoring the pain it brought to his midsection. Bobby groaned at the movement and buried his head against Darien's shoulder.

"You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be okay," whispered Darien frantically as he carried Bobby through his apartment and out the front door. He got him outside the apartment building and quickly put him in the passenger's seat of his car, Bobby's blood staining the interior of the seat. "Come on, come on," whispered Darien to himself as he quickly ran to the other side of the car and got in, tearing down the street. "Hobbes, don't you die on me. Don't even think about it," shouted Darien urgently as he saw Bobby slump against the window. "Hobbes, no," choked Darien, his voice turning into something resembling a sob.

Bobby's apartment was about twenty minutes away from the Agency, but Darien made it in a record seven minutes. He screeched into the parking lot and tore out of his car, eager to get Bobby inside to the Keep. He carefully reached under Bobby and lifted him into his arms, sprinting as fast as he could into the building. "Keep!" he shouted as soon as he was through the front door.

Alex, who was walking in front of him down the hall, turned around in irritation. "Fawkes what's…oh my god!" she said with dread as she saw Darien running towards her with a very bloody Bobby tucked in his arms.

"Get out of my way," yelled Darien as he side stepped Alex and slammed through the door of the Keep. "Claire!" he yelled as he set Bobby carefully down in the counteragent chair, eliciting a soft moan out of his partner.

Claire had been sitting at her computer when Darien brought Bobby in and was instantly on her feet and standing at his side. "Bobby," she said gently as she started to examine his torso. "Hold on for us," she said as she reached into a cabinet and began pulling out supplies.

"Keep, help him," whispered Darien in desperation as he backed away from the pair, his clothes covered in Bobby's blood.

"What the hell happened?" asked Alex as she ran into the Keep and stepped next to the counteragent chair, looking down at Bobby's bloody form.

Darien sank down to the floor, a look of shock on his face. "I found him like that in his apartment."

"Who did it?" asked Alex urgently.

Darien shook his head. "I don't know."

Claire, who had been busy trying to locate Bobby's wound, suddenly leaned down over Bobby's mouth, nodding her head slightly. "Darien, Bobby wants you," she said softly, glancing up at Darien.

Darien took a deep breath and stood up, grabbing his partner's hand. "Hey buddy," he whispered softly as he gazed down at Bobby.

Bobby groaned and then looked up at his partner with wide eyes. "Chrysalis," he choked out.

"They did this to you?" asked Darien.

Bobby nodded and coughed.

"Easy, easy, my friend," whispered Darien, not even bothering to wipe at the tears that had started falling from his eyes.

"Love you, man," said Bobby.

"You're my brother," said Darien, his body shaking with sobs.

Bobby eyed Darien intensely and then his whole body arched back in pain.

Claire was instantly at their side. "Darien, move," she said, pushing him out of the way.

Darien nodded and got out of the way, staring at all of the blood covering his partner.

Claire began pulling out a myriad of emergency equipment that looked very unpleasant to Darien. She eyed him and Alex anxiously. "Wait outside," she said softly.

"What?" asked Darien.

"I need you two out of here and out of my way so I can help him," she said tensely.

"But…" pleaded Darien. 

"Come on, Fawkes," said Alex as she grabbed his hand and started pulling him towards the door.

"Keep…" said Darien.

Claire was too busy working on Bobby to hear Darien call her. Instead, Alex pushed Darien out the door. "Calm down, he'll be okay, Fawkes. Hobbes is tough," said Alex, trying to reassure him.

Darien looked at her and nodded slightly. He leaned against the wall and then sank down to the floor, his head in his hands. Alex sat down next to him and placed a reassuring hand on his back, rubbing it awkwardly. "He'll be okay, he'll be okay," she whispered over and over again.

"I can't lose him," whispered Darien in a small sob. "He's all I got, Alex, he's all I got."

"I know," said Alex gently. She looked down the hall, wondering if she should inform the Official of what was happening, but decided against it. She didn't think Darien was in any condition to be left alone right now.

They sat alone together in the hall for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only about thirty minutes. They sat in basic silence, the only sounds were the soft sniffles coming from Darien and the murmured words of encouragement from Alex. When the Keep door finally opened, Darien's head shot up so fast he thought his neck would break. "Is he okay?" he asked in terror as he glanced at Claire's grim looking face.

Claire eyed Alex for a moment and then knelt down in front of Darien, taking his hand in hers. "I'm sorry. He's gone, Darien," she whispered, battling tears.

Darien violently shook his head and a sick smile spread across his face. "No he's not," he said in an unbelieving tone.

Claire ran a hand down the side of Darien's face. "Darien, he lost too much blood. There was nothing I could do. Nothing anyone could have done."

"No," said Darien firmly as he stood up, pulling his hand from her grasp. "You're supposed to fix him," he said, his breaths coming short and hard.

"Darien," said Claire, tears running down her face. "I'm so sorry, I did everything I could."

"Fix him!" yelled Darien as the tears started to pour down his own face. "Fix him, fix him, fix him!" he shouted as he stepped towards the Keep.

"Darien no, you don't want to see him like this," said Claire as she grabbed his arm to stop him. 

Darien shrugged out of her grip and walked through the door anyway. He stepped into the room and his heart dropped out of his chest when he saw a sheet draped over Bobby's body on the counteragent chair. He fearfully stepped forward and looked at the familiar curves of his partner's body. Then he ripped the sheet off of Bobby, half expecting his partner to open his eyes and smile at him. But Bobby's face was pale and still, as was the rest of his body.

Darien quickly replaced the sheet and took a few steps back, nearly tripping over Alex and Claire, who had followed him inside. "I'm gonna be sick," said Darien in warning as he clutched his stomach and vomited all over the Keep floor.

Claire was leaning over him in an instant, rubbing his back and whispering apologies, the tears from her eyes staining the back of his shirt.

Darien leaned over his mess and then straightened up, his arm hugging his sore ribs. He stared at Claire for a moment and then broke down in harsh sobs, his body shaking violently. Claire instantly took him in an embrace, trying to calm him, while Alex stood awkwardly behind them.

"Darien I'm so sorry," whispered Claire into his ear.

"I can't take this," sobbed Darien. "I can't do this without him. I can't get through it."

"Shhhh," whispered Claire. "You'll be okay. We'll help you."

"No," sobbed Darien as he once again glanced at Bobby's body on the chair. He flinched away from it and closed his eyes, trying to escape the image.

"Fawkes, let's get you out of here," suggested Alex as a lump started to form in her throat. She sniffed away the tears and grabbed Darien's arm, determined to stay calm for both him and Claire.

Claire let go of Darien and nodded her head in agreement. "Let's take him to Lab Two. We can put him to bed for awhile," she said as she shifted Darien to Alex and then stepped to one of her drawers, sorting through it to find some sort of sedative.

"Alex," sobbed Darien as she started leading him out of the Keep and down the hall.

"I know, I know," said Alex gently as she took most of his weight and guided him into Lab Two. She got him to the bed and then helped him lay down, noticing for the first time the damage her and Bobby had inflicted on him the day before. She ran a finger over his bruised forehead and then lifted up his shirt, wincing at the bruises she saw. "Darien, are you hurt?" she asked as she ran a delicate hand over his cheek.

Darien shook his head and misery and curled onto his side, his sobs coming so hard he could hardly breath. Alex rubbed his back and ran a hand through his hair, feeling helpless to do anything else. When she heard Claire walked into the lab, relief flooded her body. "Claire, give him something," she said as she continued to rub Darien's back.

When she got no response, she turned around anxiously, tears sparkling in her eyes. "Claire?" she said. She saw Claire leaning against the wall next to the door, her body shaking with sobs. "Claire," she whispered again, as she fought as hard as she could to keep herself in control. "Come on, Claire give him something," she yelled, her voice cracking in a sob.

Claire only shook her head and slid to the floor in a sitting position, the needle falling out her hand.

"Claire," choked out Alex in desperation. She turned back to Darien, fighting her burning eyes and trembling lips. As she watched Darien continue to grieve for his partner, she finally lost it. She broke out into loud sobs, the tears coming hard and fast. She leaned her head down against Darien's back and started to cry along with them, mourning their friend and coworker known as Bobby Hobbes.

Minutes passed by as the trio grieved. Claire finally got her emotions under control and stood up, wiping the tears from her face. She stepped to Alex and Darien and softly touched Alex's hand. Alex looked up and sniffled, backing away from Darien.

Claire leaned down next to Darien's ear and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm going to give you something to help you sleep for awhile, okay sweetheart," she said as gently as she could.

Darien didn't seem to hear her and continued to sob his heart out. Claire carefully took a hold of his arm and wiped a trace amount of alcohol on the crook of his elbow. Then she ejected the air bubbles from the injection and unloaded the sedative into Darien's arm. 

Darien continued to sniffle, but the sounds gradually died down as the drug took effect. In less then a minute, his eyes had closed and the heaving off his chest had stopped, but the tears of grief continued to flow from his eyes.

Claire kissed the top of his head and then stepped back, looking at Alex.

"What now?" asked Alex, her face a wash of grief.

"We need to inform the Official," responded Claire.

"Inform him of what? What's all this racket Eberts and I keep hearing?" asked the Official has he stepped into the room. "Doctor, what the hell is going on?" he asked as he took in Claire and Alex's faces and saw Darien asleep on the bed.

Claire cleared her throat. "Sir, Bobby was…he was…"

"Hobbes is dead," finished Alex.

The Official started in surprise and horror. "What?"

"Chrysalis attacked him in his apartment. He was stabbed multiple times and lost a great deal of blood. Darien brought him in, and I did everything I could to bring him back, but…" Claire couldn't continue and broke out into sobs.

Alex stepped forward and brought her into her arms, letting Claire cry against her shoulder.

The Official took a deep breath, his eyes suspiciously bright. "What's wrong with Fawkes?" he asked, glancing at Darien

"Claire sedated him. Bobby's death hit him hard," answered Alex.

The Official nodded. "Where's the body?"

"In the Keep," answered Claire as she broke away from Alex and wiped at her eyes.

"I'd like to see him," said the Official.

Claire shook her head. "Sir, it's not pretty."

"I don't care, I want to see him," said the Official firmly.

Claire nodded reluctantly. "Okay," she said softly. She glanced at Alex and then nodded at Darien. "Can you stay with him?"

Alex nodded. "Sure." She found a chair on the other side of the room and pulled it up next to Darien's bed, rubbing a gentle hand across his neck.

"Thanks, Alex," said Claire as she stepped out of the room and led the Official down the hall. When they reached the Keep and stepped through the door, the Official gasped at the sheet covered body on the counteragent chair. He stepped to Bobby and pulled up the sheet, gazing at Bobby's unmoving face. "I'm sorry, son," whispered the Official. "You were a good agent. You'll be remembered with honor," he said as he leaned down and kissed Bobby on the forehead. He replaced the sheet and then looked up at Claire. "You say Chrysalis did this to him?" he asked.

Claire nodded.

"They won't get away with this," said the Official harshly as he quickly walked out of the Keep, wiping at his eyes.

Claire stared after him, sighing in anger. She took one last glance at Bobby and then walked out of the Keep to check on Darien.

Hours later, after Bobby's body had been removed and Alex had been dispatched to investigate Bobby's apartment for any clues, Claire sat beside Darien's bedside in the lab waiting for him to wake up.

He awoke gradually with a series of small moans. When he finally opened his eyes and glanced at Claire, a look of realization seem to spread across his face. "Is he really gone?" he asked in a scratchy, sleep-filled voice.

Claire nodded sadly. "Yeah."

"Okay," said Darien as he sat up from the bed. He wiped at his face, where dried tears had crusted on his eyes and cheeks.

"Are you all right?" asked Claire as she brushed a hand against his bruised face. "With everything that happened, I didn't notice you were hurt. When did it happen?"

"Last night," answered Darien. "I convinced Hobbesy not to bring me in."

"Let me take a look," she said as she pulled up his shirt, noticing the black and blue marks across his ribs.

"I'm fine," said Darien, swatting her hand away.

"Darien," countered Claire.

"Keep, I'm fine, okay," he snapped. His eyes softened and a look of regret passed over his face. "Sorry," he said softly.

"It's okay," said Claire as Darien stood up from the bed. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Darien stared intensely at her for a few seconds before answering. "Yeah, yeah…you can save me. Save me so I can nail Chrysalis once and for all. After that, the Official can have his damn gland back and put me out of my misery," he said as he headed towards the door.

"Darien, it'll work out, I promise," said Claire.

"Whatever you say, Keep," said Darien. And with that, he stepped out the door, leaving Claire to stare at the empty bed.

TBC 


	4. Part 3

Over the Edge (3/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Spoilers: Cat and Mouse in this chapter

Note: So the last chapter was a little traumatic for some. Thanks for sticking in there and reading. As Claire said to Darien in Catevari, "Trust me." Enjoy it, kiddies!

Three days later

Bobby's funeral ceremony was pretty normal as far as funerals go. The Official, Alex, Eberts, Claire and Darien attended as well as several agents. Other than that, the ceremony was relatively low key. A few rows of chairs were set out in front of Bobby's coffin, the most expensive coffin Darien could find. 

The ceremony was silent of words except for the handful of eulogies in Bobby's honor. Darien sat slumped over in the front row, his sunglasses hiding any emotion that might be evident in his eyes. He felt sick and tired and defeated, like all the life had been snatched from his body. He listened with an odd detachment as the Official addressed the small crowd.

"Bobby Hobbes wasn't just an agent, he was a good friend," said the Official in a proud voice. "He was always willing to lend a helping hand to protect this country from any harm. He was dedicated and hardworking, and he will be greatly missed," he said as he glanced over at Darien. "I have decided to set up a fund in Bobby Hobbes memory," continued the Official. "That validated parking fund he wanted so badly will be utilized to give some of our agents better training in a multitude of arenas to make this Agency better than it was before. Bobby, may you rest in peace." With that, the Official nodded slightly and stepped off the podium behind the casket, taking his seat next to Eberts.

"Would anyone else like to say a few words?" asked the Rabbi at the helm of the funeral.

Alex raised her hand and then stood up, trudging towards the stage. She looked awkwardly at her audience and then a sad smile spread across her face. "I came to work at the Agency about a year ago for my own personal reasons. I'll admit, Bobby and I had some rocky beginnings. I thought he was a clown who didn't take his job seriously, and he pretty much thought I was…well…a heartless bitch," she said with a slight laugh. "But as time passed, I realized just how good an agent Bobby really was. He had an incredible way of reading people and situations that I sometimes lacked. Watching him work with his partner was a lesson in how two people can truly respect and love one another." Alex stopped for a second, wiping at her eyes. "I guess you don't realize how much you care for someone until they're gone. I will miss Bobby greatly. His death was unnecessary and I hope he knows wherever he is that I will do everything in my power to try and remedy the situation. Thank you," she said as she shakily stepped off the stage. She sat down in her chair and wiped at the stray tears that were falling from her eyes."

"Anybody else?" asked the Rabbi.

Eberts stood up and looked around nervously. "I just wanted to say that I will miss Robert dearly. He was a coworker and I hope he considered me a friend even though we had our differences. Take care, Robert." Eberts sat back down in his seat, frowning sadly at the Official.

"Would anyone else like to say a few words?" asked the Rabbi, glancing over at Darien and Claire.

Claire nudged Darien on the leg. "Say something, Darien. It might make you feel better," she whispered.

Darien looked at her and shook his head. "I can't," he said softly.

Claire took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "I'll go with you," she said. "You need to do this."

Darien sighed and then nodded his head slightly. "Fine," he said as he stood up and headed to the podium.

Claire was right behind him with a steadying hand on his back.

Once at the podium, Darien glanced nervously at the Rabbi and then took off his sunglasses, his hands coming to rest shakily on the small pulpit. He glanced out into the grounds and then looked further in the distance, recalling Bobby's first funeral where Bobby had been watching the whole thing from behind a tree. This one was different, however. Bobby wasn't out there this time. Darien cleared his throat awkwardly and then directed his gaze to the coffin, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. 

"I don't know what to say here exactly," he said hesitantly, glancing at Claire for a second. Claire offered a quick smile and a reassuring steadying of his arm. Darien took a deep breath and then looked out into the audience. "Me and Hobbes, we were…well we were like brothers. We fought all the time. Hell, most days I wanted to kill him," he said with a ghost of a smile on his face. "But then there were those days when I realized just how much Hobbes meant to me. You know those days when he would save my life…which happened quite a bit. Or even those times when my mind went on auto pilot and I saved his life. I guess that means something." Darien stared at Alex and Eberts for a moment, hot tears stinging his eyes. "Actually, I guess it means a lot. So…uh…that's it. I lost the best friend I ever had, and I'm never getting him back. It isn't fair." Darien looked down for a moment, biting his lip so hard that it broke the skin. His head snapped up and he stared right at the Official. "But then again, I guess life isn't fair, is it?" he said in a cold tone. 

The Official grumbled and then frowned in response. 

Claire began running a soothing hand down Darien's back, causing him to let go of some of his hostility. He stared at Bobby's coffin, his heart and mind still not quite believing that his partner was gone. "You got a tough break, buddy. I'll see ya on the other side, my friend." 

Darien turned around and nodded to Claire. She smiled gently in response and then stepped right beside Darien, her hand wrapping around his arm. "Bobby was a good man. He was charming and sweet and a perfect gentleman," she said. "Well, most of the time," she said with a small grin. "But beyond that was his bravery. Bobby was never afraid of anything. There's was nothing he couldn't face down, no problem he didn't try to solve. And to that, I say thank you, sweetheart. I'll miss you so much," she said as a few tears dripped from her eyes. "I'm sorry I never got the chance to tell you how much you meant to me." 

Claire tapped the podium with her hands and that looked up at Darien. He had tears running down his cheeks, looking like a lost little boy. She reached up and wiped the tears away with her hand. Then she brought him into a quick hug, her hand coming to rest on the back of his neck. She let go of him hesitantly a few seconds later, and she was pleased to see a brief look of peace flash across his features. 

"Thanks," he whispered.

Claire nodded. "You're welcome," she said as she started leading him back to their chairs. They took their seats and then listened in deafening silence as the Rabbi said a prayer. The casket was lowered into the ground and then there was nothing left but the quiet sniffles from Bobby's friends and coworkers.

As everyone started to get up and leave, Claire glanced at Darien anxiously. "Are you going to be all right? Do you want me to take you home?"

Darien almost smiled at the comment. "I'm depressed, Claire, I'm not an invalid."

Claire rolled her eyes. "I know, I know, I'm just trying to help."

"Get back to the lab and cure me, that's how you can help," said Darien.

"Right," said Claire. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Darien shook his head. "No, not even close. But there's nothing you can do. Thanks for trying though."

Claire nodded. "Yeah."

"I'll catch you later, Keep," said Darien.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on, let me check your monitor," she said, reaching for his wrist. Her eyes saw that he had six red four green. "Shot, tomorrow, maybe the day after depending on…well anything that comes up."

"It's a date," said Darien humorlessly as he stalked off towards his car.

Claire watched him for a moment and then sighed. She started to walk towards her own car when Alex joined her. "It's hard to watch him like this," said Alex, nodding towards Darien.

Claire raised her eyebrow in surprise. "I didn't think you cared that much."

Alex shrugged. "Yeah well, neither did I."

Claire nodded and then glanced at Alex curiously. "Did you find anything at Bobby's apartment the other day?"

Alex shook her head. "Nope. No forced entry other than the front door lock that Darien picked. No fingerprints, no hair samples, nothing."

"Well, at least we know who it was. Chrysalis was very subtle," said Claire sarcastically.

"Yeah, but which little insect actually did it? We can't exactly try and convict every member, can we?" said Alex.

"No, I guess not," said Claire. "So there was nothing out of the ordinary at his apartment? I mean, every little piece helps."

Alex furrowed her brow for a second. "You know, now that you mention it, there was something kind of odd."

"What?" asked Claire nonchalantly.

"I couldn't find his gun anywhere. I found some cheap piece of crap gun with no bullets in it sitting on is dresser, but other than that, nothing," said Alex.

"Maybe he has a special place for them. A hiding place or something. Did you check Golda?" asked Claire.

"No. You're probably right. I'll just try again," said Alex as they reached their cars. "It's a real shame, you know. I felt like I was just getting to know him," she said as she started to get in her Corvette.

"Tell me about it," said Claire. "I'll see you later," she said as she climbed into her SUV.

They both started their cars and drove out of the parking lot. Alex took a left and drove off towards Bobby's apartment while Claire took a left and sped off towards the Agency .

When Claire reached the Agency twenty minutes later, she quickly got out of her car and got down to the Keep, her eyes focusing on the lack of lab equipment. She didn't have a whole lot to work with to try and help Darien, but she had been trying any way for the past couple of weeks. She quickly got her computer up and running and started testing a variety of sequences to see if she would get lucky and somehow come up with a solution. 

Eight hours later, Claire had determined that luck was not on her side that day and decided to head home to get some rest. She would try again first thing in the morning, she decided. She left the Agency and headed home, fighting exhaustion, stress and a general feeling of sadness. 

When she pulled up to her house fifteen minutes later, she saw that she had a guest. A very drunken guest by the looks of things. Darien's car was parked haphazardly in her front lawn and he stood, or more accurately, swayed, at her door, holding a bottle of whiskey in his hands. 

She quickly parked and got out of her car, running up to him. "Darien?" she said with concern.

"Ah it's the Keeper. Good old Keepie. How you doin sweetheart?" asked Darien, his eyes unfocused and glazed over.

Claire easily snatched the bottle of whiskey away and threw it in the lawn. "How long have you been here?"

Darien shrugged. "Couple of hours. Figured you were at the Keepie station, so I decided to wait for you. I got a little lonely, so I decided to bring my good friend Jack along."

Claire nodded. " I can see that." She grabbed his arm and then gently led him towards the door. "Come on, you can sleep it off here," she said as she led him through the foyer. She quickly walked to the kitchen to get him a glass of water and some Tylenol.

"Is this gonna affect the gland, Keepie?" asked Darien as he nearly stumbled over a lamp.

"It might," said Claire as she returned with the glass of water and pills. "Here, take these. It'll make you feel better in the morning."

Darien smiled widely. "You're so good to me. Always taking care of me," he said. He gulped down the pills and the glass of water in one large swallow. "You're like Hobbesy. He was always there for me," he said, looking down at the floor.

"Darien," said Claire sympathetically.

Darien shook his head. "I should have gotten there earlier. I should have known something was wrong right away when he didn't pick me up, but I was too busy feeling sorry for myself. He could still be alive if I hadn't have been so selfish," he said, his voice only seconds away from turning into a sob.

"It wasn't your fault, Darien. It couldn't have been helped," said Claire as she gently started to push him up the stairs towards her bedroom.

"I'm a horrible person," said Darien, his eyes thick with tears. "I couldn't save Kev or Allianora or Hobbes. Everything I touch turns to crap." He started to weep then, his sobs coming hard and fast, tears and snot pouring down his face.

Claire quickly pushed him towards the bathroom and then sat him down on the floor. She wetted a washcloth and then gently ran it over his whole face, trying to cool down his flushed skin. Then she took him in her arms and let his head rest on her shoulder. His arms came around and grasped her tightly from behind, seeking out the comfort she was providing him. 

"It's okay, it's okay, Darien, everything will be fine," she whispered reassuringly in his ear.

His sobs continued, but steadily decreased. She actually thought he had fallen asleep until a sudden lurching noise came out of his mouth. "Sick," he said urgently as he pushed out of her arms and crawled towards the toilet. Once there, Darien proceeded to throw up everything he had drank that night and then some. When he was finished, he rested his head against the porcelain, his stomach muscles sore and tired from the abuse he had put them through. Claire placed a cool cloth on the back of his neck and then helped him off the floor, guiding him towards her bed. She sat him down and removed his jacket, shoes and socks. Then she pushed him down against the pillow and covered him with her comforter. 

She watched him for several minutes, noting the lines of pain and sorrow that would cross his features again and again. After about fifteen minutes, she could tell that he was truly asleep and somewhat free from the pain of the last couple of days. She was about to go downstairs and have some kind of a snack when her phone rang. She instantly dived next to the bed to get the phone, not wanting to wake Darien up. He flinched slightly, but other than that continued to sleep. She quickly picked the cordless phone up from it's cradle and then walked out of her bedroom, closing the door behind her. 

"Hello?" she said. "Oh god… this is a really bad time. Yeah, Darien's here. He's not doing well at all. How are you? How's your chest? Oh good… Did you find him yet?" she asked as she made her way down the stairs. She plopped herself down on the couch and sighed. "It needs to be fast. The sooner the better." Claire rolled her eyes. "Yes I remembered to sweep for bugs. No one suspects a thing, especially not Darien or the Official. He's bad, he's really bad. I don't know if this whole plan was such a good idea. I don't know if he can take this…. well because he's laying in my bed, drunk to the gills after sobbing for a half hour." Claire shook her head. "Oh please, you knew. He feels like he lost a brother…yes…he's heart broken. I think we went overboard. Maybe we should've done it another way…convincing?…definitely… I know…me too. Good luck…you're gonna need it. I'll take care of Darien, don't worry about him." Claire smiled slightly. "You too. And Bobby, thanks for everything. You're a good friend…the best. Yeah…goodnight." Claire sighed and hung up the phone. She got off the couch and tiptoed up the stairs, trying not to disturb Darien. When she got into her room, she carefully put the phone back in its cradle and then gazed down at Darien, who was still fast asleep. "I hope this works Darien, I really hope this plan works," she said. She leaned down and kissed him on top of the head, and then she quietly stepped out of the room, eager to have that snack.

TBC


	5. Part 4

Over the Edge (4/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

On it goes…enjoy! 

It was amazing how easy it had been to fake his death. A little fake blood, a heavy sedative, a paid off morgue worker, a gifted doctor and a tiny stab wound later, Bobby Hobbes was a memory. Except that the stab wound wasn't so tiny, and deceiving his partner and best friend was not high on the list of accomplishments he wanted to achieve in life. Nevertheless, Bobby was dead and he planned on taking every advantage that it would offer him.

The plan had started formulating about three weeks earlier. The day after the Official had none so subtly informed Claire that she would not be giving Darien the cure for quicksilver madness, Bobby had found out just how far the Official would go to protect his property. He had been shocked to say the least. As Claire informed him of the Official's intentions with Darien, Bobby's jaw had dropped to the ground and his stomach had sunk down into his ankles. The Official wouldn't do this, the Official couldn't do this, could he?

Bobby had to know for sure. So he had marched his butt to the Official's office with Claire hot on his heels and demanded to know the truth. It was obvious the moment that he stepped in the office that something was going on. Eberts was looming over the Official's desk with a sea of papers scattered everywhere and as soon as the door had opened, he had practically jumped on top of the stack to avoid wandering eyes. Bobby hadn't cared though. He had walked right up to the desk and swept the three or four stacks that Eberts hadn't been able to cover down to the floor. He gave the Official, who had been leaning forward curiously in his chair, the Bobby Hobbes evil eye. "What the hell are you pulling with Fawkes?" Bobby had screamed so loudly that the Official had started back in his chair in shock.

"Excuse me?" he said, recovering quickly.

Bobby leaned forward, getting so close to the Official that he could see his pores and nose hair. "How can you screw Fawkes over like this, you son of a bitch?"

The Official glanced back at Claire, who had been standing in the doorway with her hands firmly on her hips. "You told him?"

Claire gave him a smug smile. "Fraid so, sir."

The Official grumbled and looked back at Bobby. "This is none of your concern," he said in a cold tone.

Bobby laughed then, a throaty chuckle that had sent the hair on everyone's neck standing on end. "Not my concern, is that right? Correct me if I'm wrong sir, but did you not assign me to Fawkes to protect him, to make sure no one messed with him or the wonder gland."

"Things have changed," answered the Official.

Bobby shook his head. "No, they haven't changed, sir. Not even a little bit. Fawkes is still an agent, he still has a gland, and I'm still his partner."

"I'm sorry to inform you of this Hobbes, but your partner will be completely insane in a matter of weeks. I can't exactly afford to keep a 17 million dollar gland in the mind of someone who will be unable to use it for sanctioned assignments," said the Official.

"So why not cure him? Why put him through this hell? We can contact Arnaud through underground channels and make some kind of a deal," said Bobby with desperation.

The Official shook his head firmly. "No. This discussion is finished," he said simply. "Eberts, get me the papers."

Eberts stepped forward and sorted through one of the stacks of papers, pulling several out as he went. He was about to hand them to the Official when Bobby snatched them out of his hands and ripped them up, throwing the scraps of paper all over the floor. "Why are you doing this?" asked Bobby in a deadly tone.

The Official leaned forward, looking Bobby straight in the eyes. "Because I don't trust Fawkes without the control of the quicksilver madness. He'll run rampant. He'll commit crimes. He'll make a mockery of everything I helped to build. An ex-con should not have the power of invisibility. I don't care who he is. This isn't personal, Bobby, it never was."

Claire, who had been listening in grave fascination, stepped forward. "But sir…"

Bobby stopped her with his hand. "No Claire, it doesn't matter. Nothing we say is gonna change this fat bastard's mind."

"You're damn right," said the Official.

"He's gonna kill Fawkes, and there's nothing we can do to stop it," said Bobby.

"I'm glad you're finally seeing things my way," said the Official smugly. "Now, don't you have a case that needs to be solved?"

Bobby gave the Official a fake smile. "Why yes chief, I live to serve." And with that, he had walked out of the office with a stunned Claire following behind.

"Bobby, what good did that do?" she asked in an upset tone. 

Bobby put a finger to his lips and led her to the exit doors. "Quiet sweetheart, this place has eyes and ears everywhere," he said as he led her outside and across the street to a cheap coffee shop.

And that's where it had all started. The plan had evolved gradually, getting more and more complex as the days went by. The basic plan was to get the cure from Arnaud by any means necessary and then protect Darien from the Official, even if it meant leaving the country and getting new identities. Bobby knew the Official was serious when he said he would kill Darien. He also knew that the Official would be watching his every move, so if he decided to jump ship and go after the cure for Darien, the Agency would be hot on his heels. But a dead man, a dead man could do just about anything, including going after the cure undetected.

So Bobby and Claire had brainstormed over ways he could "die". An explosion was too basic and left room for doubt. An accident in the field was also too convenient. They finally decided on the early morning attack at his apartment, where they would all see Bobby die up close and personal. This was when Darien came into the equation. In order for Bobby's "death" to look real, Darien would have to believe that he was dead as well. If Darien had found out, he would either blow Bobby's cover or he would want to come with him to get the cure, which would force the Official to kill him even sooner then planned. Either way, it was something that Bobby didn't want to deal with. 

He and Claire had set the date and made the necessary preparations, nervous as hell that something might go wrong. They had considered letting Alex in on the plan to help them out, but quickly determined that the fewer people who knew, the better. So on the same night that Bobby had reamed Darien for trying to kill himself, he had gone back to his apartment alone and packed a bag, stashing it nonchalantly in a nearby bus station locker. Then he had stared at the clock until approximately 6:45 a.m. when the attack was officially supposed to occur.

He had determined that he would have to have at least one real stab wound, so Darien would see an injury if he checked. Bobby had taken the knife he had purchased the day before and stared at it for awhile until it became a silver blur. Then he took his position next to the bed and clenched his eyes tightly shut, not really looking forward to having the metal blade shoved into his ribs. But he did it anyway and it had hurt like hell. He hadn't pushed it in very deep, but it still had the necessary effect of blood. And of course, there was the fake blood, which would truly make the plan work. He pulled the bottle out from his nightstand and squirted it all over himself, going for an over dramatic effect. When he was finished, he threw the bottle out the window where it landed stories below in the alleyway. Finally, after managing not to get any real or fake blood on his carpet except where it was necessary, he laid down in his crime scene, cursing the fact that his real chest wound was starting to bleed fairly heavily and waiting anxiously for his partner to arrive.

Everything after that was basically a blur. It must have taken a while for Darien to get to him because by the time his partner was staring over him with his puppy dog eyes, he had been feeling woozy and generally pretty out of it, so out of it in fact that he hadn't realized how much the experience was freaking out Darien. The one potential for a screw up was Darien's move after he found Bobby. He and Claire were counting on the fact that Darien would bring Bobby to the Keep and not to the ER in his fit of panic. Fortunately, they had been right. After Bobby realized that the plans were working out, he had succumbed to the blood lost and passed out on the ride to the Keep. By the time he had been put in the counteragent chair and woken up somewhat, Claire was eyeing him with a serious expression on her face, aware that the stab wound he had inflicted on himself was pretty serious. She had nonchalantly stanched the flow almost immediately and his head had cleared up. That was when he noticed how upset his partner was and received the first inkling that maybe it hadn't have been such a good idea to leave Darien out of the loop. So he had motioned for Claire to get Darien and gave his partner his "last words" so to speak. Then he had planted the catalyst that Chrysalis had been the one to do this to him, hoping it would give Darien some motivation to keep going in case he decided to do something stupid, like try and off himself again. Plus it would steer Darien and the Agency in the opposite direction of where he himself was headed.

After the Chrysalis confession, Claire had shoved Darien and Alex out of the room and the real work had begun. She fully treated his self-inflicted wound and then quickly injected him with a powerful sedative that would leave him looking and appearing practically dead to the casual observer. After that, he was wheeled out of the building with a sheet draped over his head by the paid off mortician and his body was switched with a cadaver. From there, he had been taken to a cheap hotel to sleep off the sedative and get started on the quest to save his partner.

He had woken up early in the evening and quickly hauled his buns to the bus station, retrieving his bag and boarding a bus to Mexico. A few sources from Hobbesnet had placed Arnaud somewhere in the Baja area, though they weren't exactly sure where. Ever since Bobby had gotten to Mexico, he had been prying the locals for information, coming up with nothing but dead ends. Frustrated, he had decided to take a breather for a few hours and check in with Claire to see if the plan had really worked. He had been shocked to learn of Darien's meltdown over his supposed death. Shocked and a little flattered. He knew his partner cared about him, but he never really knew how much until now. He also felt guilty for deceiving him like this, but it just couldn't be helped. If he was going to save his partner, he was going to have to continue to put him through the ringer. Just like that song said, sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.

After he had talked to Claire, he hung up the phone and taken a deep breath, looking around his motel room through tired eyes, trying to ignore the subtle ache from the knife wound in his chest. "Let's get this fiesta started," he whispered to the walls.

He quickly checked the time, noting it was about 10 p.m. and decided to give the bar scene a try to get some information. He headed out of his hotel room and strolled up the street where he had spotted several bars in his way into town. His first stop was La Flora where a host of senoritas were ready to greet eager customers. Bobby casually whipped a picture of Arnaud out of his pocket and asked if anyone had seen him. The answer was no. He repeated this process at three other bars and came up empty handed. After the fifth bar, Bobby decided hell with it all and ordered a tequila, choosing a seat in the back to drown out his miseries in private.

He was nursing his second drink when a scrawny looking kid of only about sixteen nervously strolled in Bobby's direction. Bobby eyed the kid curiously. "You want something kid?" he asked.

The boy stuck his hands in his pockets and looked around nervously. "You have a photo?" he asked softly.

"Why as a matter of fact I do?" said Bobby, taking the picture out of his pocket and showing it to the kid. "What's it to you?"

"Perhaps you will pay for information?" asked the kid eagerly.

"What's your name?" asked Bobby.

"Ricardo," answered the boy too quickly.

Bobby arched an eyebrow. "What's your real name kid?"

The kid shuffled his feet and looked at the ground. "I want to help you."

"So help," said Bobby, shoving the picture under the kid's nose. "You know him, don't you?"

The kid looked up and nodded at Bobby. "This man hired my brother to do some security work about a week ago."

"Where?" asked Bobby.

The kid pointed towards the west. "Out there in the desert. He hired a whole bunch of people from the town to work for him."

"How come you're talking and everyone else has developed a case of amnesia?" asked Bobby.

"Cuz this man brings money to our town. Money we need," said the kid.

"But you don't like him, right?" asked Bobby.

"I'm worried about my brother. I'm afraid this man will hurt him," said the kid.

Bobby reached into his pocket and pulled out a fifty. "This is for being brave, kid," he said as he handed the kid the money.

The kid beamed. "Thanks, sir."

"No, thank you," said Bobby as he laid a few more bills on his table and quickly walked out of the bar. He started jogging back to his hotel, eager to get in his rental car and find Arnaud. Two hours later, he had located Arnaud's new hacienda and almost wished he hadn't. With little more than a flashlight aimed from nearly two hundred yards away, Bobby could tell that Arnaud's new home was a fortress. Men armed with guns were milling about the front gates to the property and a line of cars were parked just beyond the gates, telling him that Arnaud was far from reachable. 

Bobby sighed heavily and got back in his car, speeding off quietly down the dirt road that had taken him there. What he needed was Darien and his disappearing act to get in there. But that wasn't going to happen. He had to think of a way to get to Arnaud, no matter how dumb or risky it was. His partner's life depended on it. "Looks like I'm going old school," said Bobby out loud as he let the moonlight guide him along the road back to his motel.

TBC


	6. Part 5

Over the Edge (5/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Spoilers: Small one for The Camp

Note: Um…heheheh…a little relief for our depression invisible man. And don't worry, plenty of more twists, turns, cliffs, torture and angst to come. Enjoy it, folks!

Meanwhile, back in San Diego a few days later…

"Fawkes, you okay?"

He heard her say the words, but somehow they just wouldn't penetrate into his brain.

"Fawkes?"

His hand physically shook as her reached for the door handle of her car.

"Darien!"

"What?" he asked, finally looking over at Alex Monroe as he prepared to bolt from the passenger's side of her Corvette.

Alex's face was etched in worry, an emotion Darien had rarely seen cross her features. "What's wrong?" she asked, genuinely interested.

Darien smiled and tilted his head back. "Oh you know, other than the fact the I just lost my best friend, and I'm going permanently insane in a few weeks, absolutely nothing, sister."

"I'm being serious," she said as she gazed at his shaking hand, which was still glued to the door handle. "If you don't think you can handle it, I'll take you back in."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" said Darien coldly as he quickly snatched his hand away from the door. "With Hobbes and I dead, you'll be the big fish at the Agency. Probably take the whole place away from Charlie in a matter of months and then let it get swallowed up by the FBI, CIA, whoever's price is right."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid, Fawkes."

Darien closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, trying to calm his anger and nerves down.

"I can take you in," said Alex.

Darien glared at her. "You take me in and I'll be on an autopsy table within twenty four hours. I gotta keep going as long as I can and prove to the Official that I'm still worth the time and the effort. Maybe a miracle will happen and Claire will find a way to fix me."

"Maybe," said Alex softly as she stared down at the steering wheel.

"You don't believe in miracles, do you?" asked Darien.

Alex chewed her bottom lip for a moment and looked up. "The only miracle I've ever known was snatched out from under me the moment I got it."

"Yeah," said Darien, trying to look anywhere but in Alex's eyes.

"Ready to go now?" asked Alex.

"Uh huh," said Darien as he opened the car door.

"You got your mike?" asked Alex.

Darien pulled a receiver and microphone out of his pocket, placing the receiver in his ear and attaching the microphone to his shirt. "Check."

"Now get in there and try to find the stuff. If you need back up, just holler. Literally," said Alex.

"Gotcha," said Darien as he slammed her car door shut and started jogging towards an abandoned school they had been parked in front of for the last half-hour. An anonymous source had tipped the Agency off that this was the place Chrysalis had moved the stolen quicksilver. Darien was to goin under the hoopa to see if the tip was legit.

Alex pulled the microphone attached to her shirt towards her mouth. "Fawkes, you in yet?"

"Yeah," she heard Darien breathe over the wire. "There's nothing in here. Only rats and tigers and bears, oh my!"

Alex rolled her eyes. "Keep looking."

"Yes mother," said Darien.

The line was silent for a good minute before a shout alerted Alex that something was going down. "You son of a bitch! You killed him! You killed my partner!" she heard Darien shout over the wire. Then she heard the distinct sounds of a loud scuffle.

"Fawkes, answer me!" said Alex urgently as she started to get out of her car. But all that greeted her on the other end was shouts and half hysterical sentences pouring out of Darien's mouth. "Fawkes!" she yelled as she ran towards the building. "What's your location?"

"You killed him! You killed him! You bastards, you all killed him!" was her response.

"Fawkes!" shouted Alex as she made her way into the building. "Come on Fawkes, this is Alex, answer me! Fawkes!"

Suddenly she heard a clang and then a familiar sounding groan. After that, there was complete silence on the wire. "Darien!" she shouted. "Damn it, Darien, come on, where are you?" she screamed as she started kicking in doors of old classrooms one by one. When she kicked in the last door in the corridor, she found what was left of some sort of refrigeration unit that looked like it had been just been removed. She also saw a small pile of quicksilver flakes on the floor where one of the canisters must have spilled. "Damn it," she said in frustration when she realized they had been too late to snatch back the quicksilver. Now came the task of finding Darien. She quickly ran out of the room and started sprinting up a flight of stairs at the end of the hall. "Fawkes? Answer me, damn it! Fawkes?"

She kicked in the door of the first room she could find and was greeted with the semi conscious form of Darien sprawled across the floor, holding his head. Next to him was a metal pipe, along with a badly injured Chrysalis agent. Alex instantly stepped to Darien, trying to get a good look at the bleeding wound on his forehead. "Fawkes, can you hear me?"

"Monroe?" he cracked out, his eyes squinting in obvious pain.

"Yeah, Darien, it's me," she said as she knelt down and started examining the rest of him for injuries.

Darien pointed at the unconscious man lying next to him. "He killed him," he whispered in a slurred voice.

"Fawkes, now's not the time," said Alex as she pressed her shirt against his head. "You might have a concussion."

Darien shook off her hand and pointed at the man once again. "You're not listening to me! He killed Hobbes! Why won't you listen to me!" he shouted, his eyes welling with tears of anger and grief.

Alex sighed deeply and gently took Darien's face in her hands. "Darien, we don't know who killed him. It could've been this guy or it could have been some other guy. You can't single-handedly take out every member of Chrysalis to find the killer."

Darien shook his head and a few tears started rolling down his cheeks. "I know it's him," he sniffled.

Alex was about to respond, when Darien suddenly stiffened, his eyes going wide. "Behind you," he whispered.

Alex whipped around and had just enough time to shoot at the man who had a gun pointed at her head. He fell to the ground, dead before he hit the floor. She stared at the dead man for a minute and then turned her attention back to Darien, who was staring at the dead man in fear. "We need to get out of here. The quickilsver's been moved," said Alex as she stood up. She reached out her hand and pulled Darien up off the floor. "Come on," she said as she draped his arm over her shoulder and supported his waist with her other arm. "I'm taking you to the Keep."

"Wanna go home," he whispered in a tiny voice.

"Later, okay. You need to have Claire look at your head," said Alex as she carefully guided them both out of the building, looking around for any wandering Chrysali.

"Want Hobbes," mumbled Darien when they finally got outside.

"I know," whispered Alex in sympathy as she led him to her car. She opened the door and then strapped him in, trying to ignore the intense emptiness she saw in his usually vibrant eyes. "I know," she whispered again as she got in the car and tore off towards the Agency.

**

"Well Darien, it's a good thing you have a hard head," said Claire twenty minutes later. "Just a bump, no concussion," she said as she wiped away some of the blood and started applying antiseptic to the area.

Darien was listless and simply stared at the walls.

Claire gave Alex a look and then turned her attention back to Darien. "You okay?" she whispered softly.

"What?" asked Darien, broken out of his trance.

"I said are you okay?" asked Claire as she bandaged his head.

"Fine," answered Darien shortly.

"Darien…if you need to talk," said Claire.

Darien shook his head. "Nope, everything's fine."

"How could everything possibly be fine, Darien?" said Claire in annoyance. She reached down to check his wrist and saw the he was seven red, three green. "You need a shot," she said as she left his side to retrieve the counteragent.

Darien glanced up at Alex, who was looming in the background. The look on her face was troubled and she looked like she wanted to speak up and tell Claire something. Darien stared her down and shook his head firmly. Alex rolled her eyes in response and took a seat in one of the computer chairs.

"Okay, here we go," said Claire a second later when she returned with the necessary supplies to give him his shot. She tied the rubber strap around his bicep and then injected him with the counteragent, ignoring the gasp that came out of Darien's mouth. Then they both waited with baited breath to see how far the monitor would fill up this time. Three green, four green, five green. Then it stopped. Darien sighed heavily and put his face in his hands, close to tears.

Claire put a comforting hand on his arm. "Darien, there's still hope. I might find a solution. Please don't give up yet."

Darien looked up at her with a doubting look on his face. "Thanks for trying to cheer me up there Keep, but we both know my chance to get rid of this thing pretty much died the second Arnaud walked out the door."

Claire sighed and stepped to the refrigerator, pulling out an icepack. She placed it in Darien's hand and then guided it up to his head. "Rest for a few minutes. I need to talk to Alex," she said, gazing back at the female agent.

"What, are you gonna talk about me?" said Darien sarcastically. 

"Yes," said Claire as she motioned Alex to follow her outside into the hallway. 

Alex nodded and got out of her chair, following Claire outside. "What do you want, Keep?" she asked.

"I need you to watch him for me," said Claire firmly. "He shouldn't be alone."

"I agree," said Alex, looking down at her feet.

"Did something happen?" asked Claire with concern.

Alex sighed and looked up. "He kind of freaked out on the job. I think he's okay now, though."

"Bloody hell," said Claire in frustration as leaned against the wall. "Alex, please, just watch him, make sure he's safe. I would do it, except I've got to concentrate on trying to cure him."

"I understand," replied Alex.

"Look, just do whatever you can for him. Get him to talk or let him cry or yell, whatever it is he needs to do to work through some of this stuff," said Claire.

Alex nodded and then gave Claire a curious glance. "I've got a question for you," she said.

"What?" asked Claire.

"Is there really any hope for Darien or are you just saying that to make him feel better?" asked Alex.

Claire looked up at the ceiling and then looked Alex in the eye. "Between you and me, there's a very good chance Darien will be cured. We just need more time."

Alex stepped closer to Claire, looking her deep in the eyes. "What are you not telling me?"

Claire shook her head innocently. "Nothing."

"Claire," said Alex.

"It's nothing," whispered Claire sharply. "Let's go back inside," she said as she headed towards the door.

Alex decided to let the subject drop and followed behind Claire into the Keep, where they found Darien lightly dozing in the chair. Claire roused him with a caress to the cheek. "Darien, Alex is going to take you home now," she said.

"I don't need a babysitter," said Darien as he groggily got of the chair.

"Actually, you do. She needs to watch you and make sure that head wound doesn't turn into anything more serious. Plenty of sleep should do the trick. Watch out for nausea, vomiting or dizziness. You feel any of those and you have Alex bring you back in, okay," said Claire gently.

Darien nodded. "Yeah," he said heavily. He looked at Alex and nodded towards the door. "Ready, Monroe?"

Alex motioned towards the door with her hand. "After you, Mr. Fawkes."

Darien headed towards the door, throwing a backwards glance at Claire. "Thanks Keep," he said softly.

"You're welcome," she said as she watched him walk out the door. She gave Alex an appreciative glance and then watched her walk out the door as well. Claire sighed heavily and checked her watch. 2 p.m. Almost time for her check in with Bobby. She quickly gathered her purse and walked out the door, heading to the payphone across the street at their infamous coffee shop.

**

Alex had gotten Darien home and put him to bed, ignoring the mess his apartment had become in a few short weeks. After he had fallen asleep, she had tidied up and then parked herself in front of his bookcase, exploring his large collection. She was in the middle of "The Taming of the Shrew" when a harsh wail caused her to look in Darien's direction.

What she saw alarmed her. He was curled in his sheets thrashing about, small whimpers of terror escaping from his lips. She quickly set down the book and walked to his bedside, eager to wake him up.

"Fawkes," she said in a calm voice, gently grasping his arm.

He roughly pulled out of her grasp and turned away, a scream coming from his mouth. "No!" he murmured in a terrified voice.

"Darien, come on, wake up," she said as she got a hold on his shoulder and started to shake him.

Darien sobbed and clenched himself into a tiny ball, trying to get away from whatever it was that was scaring him.

"Darien!" she yelled again.

He suddenly bolted up in his bed, a look of horror in his eyes. He panted with the exertion of his dream and gave her a confused stare. "What's…what's going on?" he whispered through his pants of air.

Alex ran a comforting hand through his hair. "You were having a nightmare."

Darien nodded and swallowed, his face turning an embarrassed shade of red. He quickly lay back down and turned away from her, eager to get away from her concerned face.

"Darien, it's okay, you don't have to feel embarrassed," she said sincerely.

He shook his head and clutched the covers tightly against his body, pulling them up so they nearly buried his head.

"Darien," said Alex in frustration. She stood up and planted her hands on her hips, a sympathetic expression spreading across her face. "Look, Fawkes…I'm here okay." She looked down at her feet awkwardly. "God, I'm so bad at this," she whispered under her breath. She cleared her throat and looked back up at the lump buried under the covers. "I just wanted to say, you know, I'm sorry about everything. You got screwed and it sucks. I want to be your friend. I know you may find that hard to believe since it seems like I never cared a rat's ass about you either way, but it's the truth," she said, sitting down on the bed next to him. "So here it goes. If you want a hug or if you want to cry or if you want to bite my head off, go ahead. If you want me to just sit here with you, I will. And if you want me to get the hell out and leave you alone, I'll do that too," said Alex, holding her breath for a reaction.

There was silence for a long moment, the tension and awkwardness so thick you could cut a knife with it. But then, Darien slowly rolled over and Alex saw that he had tears streaming down his face. "Do you really mean that?" he asked in a small little boy voice.

Alex nodded. "Absolutely," she said.

Darien bit his lip. "Okay, well then can I have a little hug here?" he asked, his tone scared and fragile.

Without a word, Alex scooted next to him and pulled him in her arms, rubbing a comforting circular motion on his back. "It'll be okay, Darien. It'll be okay," she whispered softly.

Darien buried himself against her chest and sighed. "That's what everyone keeps telling me."

Alex laughed then, a throaty chuckle that did wonders for her depressed state of mind. "You're such a smart ass. Even in the depths of despair, you've still got a sense of humor," she said in amusement.

Darien slowly broke out of the hug and gazed at her with serious eyes, his expression one of hope, embarrassment, weakness and sorrow all mixed into one. He glanced down at her lips for a minute and then looked back in her eyes. "How long has it been for you?" he asked softly.

Alex stared at him for a long while, processing exactly what this question held. "Too long," she answered, her voice wavering on wanting.

Darien stared at her lips again and nodded. Then he slowly leaned forward, experimentally pressing his lips against hers. He was surprised when he felt her not only accepting the kiss, but also kissing him back, rather enthusiastically at that. She worked her tongue into his mouth and started thrusting it against his tongue, causing both of their breaths to quicken dramatically. "Do you need this as much as I do?" she breathed between kisses, resting her forehead against his.

"More," he panted. And then they quickly dived back towards one another's mouth, each eager to taste as much as they could of the other.

Note: If you want to read the D/A sex scene, then look for the little NC-17 snippet that comes after this part. Don't worry, this isn't turning into a D/A love story, it's just a little stress relieving sex that quite frankly, I think they've earned. If you're under 17 or if D/A doesn't do it for you and you don't want to read it, don't worry, you won't be missing anything. The next part will be coming out in a few days. Thanks for reading guys!


	7. Part 5 & 1/2 (NC-17 snippet)

Over the Edge Part 5 & ½ (NC-17 Interlude)

By Carol M.

See previous part for explanation

Hehehehehe…enjoy, kiddies!

The kissing could only last so long before they were both ready to move on to bigger and brighter things. Alex started pushing first, moving her kisses down to his throat where she discovered that a large Adam's apple was very sexy. She started licking it and sucking on it, causing Darien to gasp in pleasure.

She moved further down, licking at the top of his collarbone and his upper chest, while Darien reached under her shirt and began caressing her breasts through the silky material of her bra. She moaned in pleasure and then reached down to the bottom of his shirt, eagerly pulling it off his body in one fluid motion. She gazed down at his naked chest, surprised that she had never really noticed how muscular and defined he really was, despite his skinny frame. She gave him an evil glance and then settled her mouth over his chest, licking his nipples enthusiastically until she had brought the tiny buds into full erection.

"Alex," gasped Darien. He ran his hands through her hair and then reached under her shirt to unhook her bra. He pulled it out of her shirt and then began stroking her breasts, taking her nipples firmly between his fingers and caressing her roughly.

Alex stopped what she was doing and leaned into his touch, a pleasant ache building between her legs. She quickly ripped off her shirt and then lay back down on top of him, enjoying the feeling of his warm, firm chest against hers. She started running a trail of wet kisses down his torso while he ran gentle hands over her back. She reached his muscled abs and caressed them firmly with her hands before she started to kiss each and every little muscle she could find. The effort left Darien panting in ecstasy.

Alex grinned and then moved further down his body, her hand coming to rest against the hardness she could feel below his belt. She quickly undid his pants and reached inside, scooting aside his briefs so she could caress his hardness.

"Oh god," groaned Darien, his head going back against the pillow.

Alex caressed the member harder and then took it out of his pants, admiring his long length and substantial girth. She leaned down over him and then took him into her mouth, tonguing the underside of the head while continuing to caress the full length of him with her hand. Darien started to pant wildly and moaned in pleasure, his head tossing back and forth against the pillow. "Crap Alex," he whispered, the pleasure so intense it was almost pain.

She continued her ministrations for several more minutes until Darien abruptly sat up and pushed her off. "Stop, you're gonna make me come," he whispered.

She smiled and then watched in amusement as he tried to get his pants and underwear completely off his body without falling off the bed. Once he had successfully completed the task, he turned his attention to her, his lips and teeth pressed against her nipples.

She let him work his magic on her, his hands rubbing through his hair.

He slowly started to work south, his mouth pressing a trail of kisses down her stomach, pausing briefly to lap up the sweat in her belly button. Then his nimble hands quickly undid her pants and discarded them along with her silky thong. His fingers drifted towards her upper hips and then slowly started caressing her clit, his fingers working in a circular motion that almost had her coming at the first touch. He worked a finger from the other hand inside of her and started giving her double the pleasure, continuing to caress her clit and simultaneously entering her with his finger.

"Ohhhh," moaned Alex. "Darien, you're so good," she screamed out.

Darien smiled shyly and then kissed her, all the while continuing to work magic on her body with his fingers. 

"Ohhh, oh god…oh god," panted Alex. "I'm gonna…oh…. oh god….oh," she moaned. "Don't stop," she purred.

Darien picked up the pace and started to finger her furiously, his cock aching with need as he saw Alex rushing towards orgasm.

"Ohhhh…ahhhhh…I'm gonna…. ahhhhhh!" Alex screamed as waves of pleasure crashed over her body, making everything around her seem muffled and fuzzy. She gazed up at Darien, who was looking slightly nervous. 

"Are you sure this is okay?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," said Alex as she reached into his nightstand drawer and pulled out a package of condoms.

Darien gave her a surprised look. "How did you know?"

"Because you're a guy, Fawkes," said Alex smugly as she opened a package and then inserted the condom into her mouth. She leaned forward and grasped Darien's cock, sliding on the condom in one quick motion with her expertly trained mouth and fingers.

"Nice," commented Darien in a strained voice. "Do we need anything else?" he asked.

Alex shook her head and pulled him down to her, her mouth eager to find his mouth. "I'm safe," she panted as she ran her tongue along his bottom lip.

Darien nodded and then leaned up for a second. He slid back and then entered her in one quick motion, the feeling of her heat almost causing him to come instantly.

He started entering her eagerly, his need to come so great he could feel the intense pressure building all over his body.

Alex gently grasped his head and brought him down so he was buried against her shoulder, her hands gently caressing the back of his neck. "Easy Darien, just let it happen," she whispered in his ear.

Darien groaned and nodded, trying to slow down his thrusts. He started entering her and then pausing, causing the intensity of the pleasure to build for both of them.

"Oh god," he moaned as he felt her internal heat hugging his cock.

Alex herself could feel another orgasm building in her core. "Darien," she moaned.

Darien couldn't take it any more and picked up the pace, pumping into her furiously over and over again as a frenzy seemed to take over his body. Over and over again he plunged into her, each thrust harder than the previous one. 

Alex was screaming in pure ecstasy, her body dripping with sweat and her chest heaving for breath. She could feel the orgasm start to pound away at her body as Darien continued to enter her over and over again. "Darien…I'm…oh god," she moaned as the waves of orgasm once again poured through her, causing stars to appear before her eyes.

Darien however, was still pumping away, taking every frustration, every fear and every sadness he had and putting it into his actions. He thrust and thrust and thrust, an orgasm building that was so powerful, he wasn't sure if he would live through it. As he felt Alex orgasm, his own body started to break down slowly, the first signs of his own release signaling his brain. Darien just kept on thrusting and suddenly, the world seemed to turn black. There was an internal explosion so powerful that he was sure he had just damaged his cock beyond repair. Then came a buzzing in his ears and the sounds of his voice screaming in pleasure. He could feel the cum pouring out of his body, shooting inside Alex, the waves of pleasure only starting to crash down on him. He continued to pump into her, his cum still shooting from his body. And then came the most intense wave of pleasure he had ever felt in his whole life. He felt it work all the way from his toes, to his cock, to his stomach and finally into his brain, where it caused him to let out a masculine groan of pure pleasure. Then it slowly tapered down, the waves causing him to convulse inside of Alex as he started to come down from the high.

When the waves finally stopped crashing, he collapsed against her, his breathing labored and his head momentarily cleared for the first time in weeks. And then after a few seconds, he started to sob.

"Darien, it's okay," said Alex reassuringly as she caressed the sweaty hairs on the back of his neck. "Shhhh, it's okay."

He couldn't help it however and continued to sob, not really sure if the tears were for the sex, for his partner or for his impending death. Or maybe it was just his body's way of letting him release everything, he wasn't quite sure.

As the sobs continued, he could feel himself starting to black out, his vision fading and turning gray. He pulled out of Alex and quickly discarded the condom into a nearby wastebasket. Then he flopped next to her, taking comfort in the way she held and caressed his body. In this moment, he was safe and nothing could hurt him. He let the knowledge send him into darkness, knowing that Alex was back on the other side to watch over him.

TBC


	8. Part 6

Over the Edge (6/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: Okay guys, calm down. As I said before, this isn't turning into a D/A romance. Besides, you know me, I'm the biggest D/C shipper out there. The previous part wasn't about love or even about sex, it was about release and comfort. That's all it was. As penance, I'll give you a sweet D/C moment later on in the fic. Right now, hold on to your hats, cause I'm messing with the I-man mythology a bit. Enjoy it, folks!

Back in Mexico on the same night

It took three nights for Bobby to figure out a way to penetrate the fortress of Arnaud's hacienda. Every evening, he would make hour and a half drive to the lair and survey the land, all the while trying to avoid catching a bullet from one of the many armed guards surrounding the property. The guards covered every square inch of the area except one little centimeter of land in the back, which led into some kind of underground basement. The guards would make a pass of the area two or three times an hour, but no stationary gunman was posted in the spot. Thank god for small favors.

On the night Bobby decided to make his move, he left early, getting to the hacienda around eight o'clock at night. He parked his rental car in a brushy area and then took a long, out of the way route to the back of the house. The hike took him nearly an hour to complete. Once he got there, he hid in some brush, waiting for the guard to make one of his hourly sweeps. Bobby waited impatiently for nearly forty five minutes until he saw the vague outline of a form passing about thirty feet in front of him. Bobby took out his night vision goggles and watched eagerly as the guard looked around the entire area for any perpetrators. 

After about five minutes, Bobby thought he was going to be in the clear until the guard suddenly turned around and seemed to stare directly at him. He held his breath, hoping that the guard was just taking in the scenery. After what seemed like hours, the guard finally turned around and started walking away from the basement. Bobby let out a sigh of relief and collected his gun, standing up cautiously. He looked to his left and to his right, making sure that the coast was clear. Then he sprinted towards the basement door, his heart beating wildly in his chest. When he reached the door and turned the doorknob, he found that the door was locked. He quickly took a set of lock picks out of his pocket and worked the door until it popped open. Then he cautiously poked his head through, his weapon drawn and ready to be fired if need be. When no bullets greeted him, he determined he was safe and quickly stepped through the door, his eyes hardly seeing anything through the heavy darkness of the room. He pressed his hand against the wall and started to feel his way through the room, his gaze focusing on a line of light seemingly coming out of the bottom of a door several feet above him. He made his way over to the source of the light and realized that he had a small staircase to contend with. He slowly felt his way up stair by stair until he had reached the top of the flight. Then he approached the door and felt around for a doorknob, his hand locating one almost immediately. He turned the knob experimentally and was surprised when it turned loosely in his hand.

Bobby took a deep breath and slowly opened the door, poking his gun through the space in case some wacko guard decided to blow his head off. He could hear voices in the distant, but as his head poked out through the door, he didn't see any live bodies standing around. He shut the door that he just come through quietly behind him and started going towards the source of the voices, one of which he recognized as Arnaud himself. He made his way cautiously down a long hallway that was elaborately decorated with expensive paintings, decorative fixtures and a lush golden carpet. The lavishness was enough to make him sick. As he neared an intersection in the hall, his heart started beating wildly as he heard the sound of footsteps coming from the perpendicular hall. He moved to the very edge of his hallway and waited with baited breath as the footsteps got closer. When the footsteps were practically on top of him, Bobby abruptly swung out and hit the intruder across the head with his gun. The guard fell to the ground, instantly unconscious.

Bobby closed his eyes and breathed in, fingering the wound on his chest nervously. Then he carefully stepped through the intersection of the two hallways and headed right towards the room where he could hear Arnaud's voice.

"Yes, that will be all, Catalina, thank you," he heard the Swiss man say in a sweet tone that made him want to puke.

Bobby braced himself against the wall as Catalina came out of the room. Lucky for him, she exited the room in his opposite direction, not even seeing Bobby as she walked down the hall away from him. Bobby nodded his head and slid his body along the wall until his was flush with the doorjamb. Then he cautiously peaked around the door and looked into the room, seeing Arnaud sitting at a desk with his back to him. Bobby smirked and then quietly stepped around, coming fully into the room. He took cautious footsteps, being careful not to make a sound. He could almost count the hairs on the back of Arnaud's neck when he heard the startling sound of a gun cocking behind his head.

"Freeze, senor," came a heavily accented voice from behind him.

Arnaud turned around quickly and stared at both Bobby and the guard holding a gun on the agent, a huge smile spreading across his face. "So you found me," he said pleasantly.

"Among other things," said Bobby as he raised his hands in the air. "You gonna tell your watch dogs to lay off?" he asked, nodding towards his captor.

"Manuel, let the good gentleman go. After you take his gun, of course," said Arnaud.

Manuel nodded and roughly turned Bobby around, snatching his gun away. He was about to turn and leave when Arnaud loudly cleared his throat, stopping him in his tracks.

"Manuel, ankle holster," said Arnaud in irritation.

Manuel nodded in slight embarrassment and started patting Bobby down, locating the other gun at his ankle. He quickly snatched it away and gave Bobby an evil sneer before stepping out of the room.

"So are you here to arrest me?" asked Arnaud, turning back around to his desk.

"No, I'm here to make a deal," said Bobby, stepping around the desk so he and Arnaud were face to face.

"For what?" asked Arnaud.

Bobby leaned down, bracing his hands against the desk so he could look the Swiss man in the eyes. "For my partner's life."

"Ah," said Arnaud, nodding. "Miss Keeply still unable to come up with a solution after all the information I left behind?"

"Well she would have, but our fat bastard destroyed everything before she could get her eyes on it," said Bobby.

Arnaud snorted. "Sounds like something he would do."

"What's that's supposed to mean?" asked Bobby, getting in Arnaud's face.

"I worked for him, remember. Believe me, I know how cold and ruthless Borden can be," said Arnaud.

"He's gonna kill Fawkes. I'm not gonna let that happen," said Bobby.

"Of course he's going to kill him. Wake up and look at what's right in front of your eyes," said Arnaud.

"And what would that be?" asked Bobby sarcastically.

Arnaud leaned back in his chair, a smug smile spreading across his face. "Ask yourself a question. Why would your boss want to kill Fawkes if he wasn't in need of the counteragent anymore?"

Bobby shrugged. "No way to control him. He's afraid that Fawkes will run out on him with the golden nugget still in his brain."

"Very good," said Arnaud. "Now ask yourself this, would a man like Charlie Borden ever trust anyone with something that valuable in their head."

"I don't know. What's it matter?" asked Bobby.

"You really are blind aren't you?" said Arnaud.

"I've got eyes like an eagle, buddy, what's your point?" asked Bobby sharply.

"My point is that your boss was the one who came up with the idea for quicksilver madness, not me," said Arnaud.

Bobby narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"After Simon Cole, when we went back into the gland to do adjustments, ole' Charlie pulled me aside one day and asked if there was anyway I could modify the gland to give the Agency some control over their invisible agent. I told him I would test something out and eventually I figured out the sequence that would produce quicksilver madness. Of course, this was about the time I decided to include this little feature in the glands that I would be producing once I had stolen the original design," said Arnaud.

"Wait a minute, so you're saying it was the Official's idea to do this to Fawkes?" asked Bobby.

"Not to Fawkes. Darien wasn't even in the picture when these changes were made. No, it was simply a means to control an invisible agent. A pretty good idea if you ask me," said Arnaud.  
"Did Kevin know anything about this?" asked Bobby.

Arnaud rolled his eyes. "Please. That man got misty eyed when we tested lab rats. Do you really think he could have knowingly inserted something harmful into another human being, let alone his brother?"

Bobby sighed and sat down on Arnaud's desk, trying to collect his thoughts. "Where's your proof?"

Arnaud shrugged. "The proof was shredded and burned long ago, friend. Besides, what would I possibly gain by making this all up?"

Bobby shook his head. "No, no. He wouldn't, he couldn't."

"He would, he could and he did," interrupted Arnaud. "Is it really so much of a stretch?"

Bobby thought long and hard and came to the horrible realization that he believed Arnaud. "Fat bastard's been playing Fawkes from the start," said Bobby, clenching his jaw in anger.

"Like a fiddle," said Arnaud, glancing impatiently at his watch. "Look, enough small talk. I thought you came here to make a deal."

"Yeah, I did," said Bobby, standing up in a sturdy pose. "I want the cure for the madness. Not the formula or the damn computer files either. I want the freakin' vial of whatever it is that will cure him in my hand," he said in a determined voice.

Arnaud shrugged. "All right, fine. What's in it for me?"

"Um," said Bobby, coming up blank. "We'll lay off you for awhile. Let you do your terrorist bad guy thing."

Arnaud laughed. "Please. The minute I gave you the vial, you'd have an army of Feds at my doorstep. I think the life of your partner is worth a little more than that."

"You got something in mind?" asked Bobby, not really wanting to know the answer.

Arnaud smiled. "Of course. There's something that I would like back. My property, if you will."

"What's that?" asked Bobby.

"I want the quickilsver that Chrysalis milked from the cows. The quicksilver made possible because of my gland," said Arnaud.

"Wait a minute, the Agency has been searching for that stuff for weeks and we haven't been able to find it. How am I supposed to get it?" asked Bobby.

"Any way you can," said Arnaud. "You bring me the quicksilver and I'll give you the cure for Fawkes."

"I'm getting the raw end of the deal here, my friend," said Bobby. "How do I know you won't just kill me when I bring you the juice?"

"Because I'm giving you my word," said Arnaud.

"No offense, Arnie, but your word don't mean squat," said Bobby.

Arnaud shrugged. "Fine, have it your way. Let Fawkes go crazy and then watch Borden execute him. You've got what, a few weeks at most?"

Bobby slammed his hand against the desk in frustration. "You son of a bitch," he yelled.

"I've been called worst things, believe me," said Arnaud.

"I'll bet you have," said Bobby.

"So do we have a deal?" asked Arnaud.

Bobby stared Arnaud in the face and then slowly nodded his head. "Deal."

"Good," said Arnaud.

Bobby leaned in then, nearly nose to nose with Arnaud. "If you double cross me or Fawkes in any way, rest assured, your life will be cut very short."

"I understand," said Arnaud, leaning back in his chair. "You should probably be leaving now. You can get your guns back from Manuel. He should be near the front door."

"You're so generous," said Bobby as he headed towards the door.

"Hobbes," said Arnaud.

"What?" asked Bobby, stopping for a moment.

"What are you going to do with Fawkes after you get him the cure? How are 

you gonna protect him?"asked Arnaud.

"I'll find a way. Trust me," said Bobby in a determined voice. Then he turned on his heel and headed out the door, leaving Arnaud to stare curiously after him.

TBC


	9. Part 7

Over the Edge (7/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: This part is sort of the calm before the stormy weather starts up again. Dig out the rain gear and the ropes, you're gonna need them. Hope you enjoy! And thanks for all the kind words so far guys, I appreciate it! Read on for more angst and intrigue…

Back in San Diego at Darien's 

The next morning, when the sun was cracking through the shades and the birds were chirping, Alex awoke with a start, not sure where she was. She felt a warm body next to her and started back in surprise when she saw it was Darien. Once the shock had worn off, she gazed down at the younger man, watching him sleep. He looked relatively calm and peaceful, his arms curled around a pillow like it was a teddy bear.

Alex smiled in spite of herself and carefully got off the bed, locating her clothes. There were few things that surprised her in life, but she had to admit, Darien Fawkes had been one of them. Especially last night. She felt needs and emotions coming off of him that no man had ever shown her before. She had truly helped him and that made her feel good, no matter how much she wanted to deny it. It hadn't been love and it hadn't been romance, it had been about pure primal need, something both of them had been denied for quite a long time. She didn't have any regrets about what they had done, but she hoped that Darien wasn't one of those clingy types who would want to get involved. That simply wasn't going to happen. The sex might have been fantastic, but Alex held no romantic feelings for Darien Fawkes and she was pretty sure he felt nothing for her.

As she padded into his kitchen to make some coffee, she heard a muffled groan come from the bed. 

"Rise and shine, Fawkes," said Alex as she began locating the necessary supplies to make the coffee.

Darien sat up slowly and rubbed at his eyes. "Hey," he murmured.

"Coffee?" she asked.

Darien nodded wordlessly and fell back onto his pillows.

Minutes passed by in wordless silence, the only sounds permeating the walls were the soft swishes of the coffee being brewed. When it was finished, Alex grabbed two cups and poured some for herself and Darien. She stepped to the bed and lay the cup against Darien's chest, which caused his eyes to snap open in surprise.

"Coffee," she said.

Darien nodded and sat up, taking the coffee into his hands. "Thanks."

"Welcome," said Alex as she stepped over to the bar and took a seat.

Another few minutes passed in complete silence, the tension growing thicker and thicker as the seconds ticked by. "Damn, and I thought it was gonna be awkward," Darien suddenly interjected.

Alex smirked. "Oh believe me, it is," she said sarcastically.

"Yeah," said Darien, looking down.

Alex sighed and set down her coffee. "Look, do you think you can handle being on your own for awhile? There's a few things I've got to take care of."

"Sure," said Darien as he slowly got off the bed, wrapping his naked body in the sheets. "I'm cool."

Alex smiled slightly. "Good." She picked up her things and started heading towards the door.

"Monroe," said Darien suddenly.

Alex turned around and glanced at Darien. "Yeah?"

"For what it's worth…thanks," he said sincerely.

Alex winked sly. "Ditto," she said as she walked out the door.

A half hour later, Alex was knee deep in the apartment of Bobby Hobbes, searching for something, anything that would still the uneasy feeling that been running through her ever since he had died. Something wasn't quite right, and she needed to find some proof of her hunch. 

The thing that bothered her the most was the fact that she couldn't find Bobby's gun. She tore his apartment upside down looking for it, but came up empty at every corner. There was also no evidence left behind by the supposed perpetrator of the crime. Forensics had located no hair samples, blood samples or fingerprints of any unidentified people in the apartment. That in itself didn't sit well with Alex. She knew that no matter what, even with being surprised in his sleep, Bobby would have put up some kind of fight with his attacker, an attack which no doubt would have left behind some kind of evidence. But there were simply no indicators in the apartment that said that this was the case.

After another hour of sorting and rooting, Alex decided to go down and visit the headquarters of Bobby Hobbes' spy life: Golda. She quickly located the keys and hurried down to the street, eager to get a peak inside. When she got the door open and climbed inside, she instantly knew that things were different. Things weren't as cluttered. The glove compartment seemed lighter. And of course, the night vision goggles were no where to be found.

Alex took a deep breath and hopped out of the van, slamming the door shut behind her. Time to visit the one person who might just know what the hell was going on. She quickly got into her car and sped off towards the Agency.

**

Claire was gathering her purse to head over to the coffee shop, when Alex burst through the Keep door, looking both furious and confused.

"What the hell is going on?" Alex screamed, causing Claire to subconsciously back up a few steps.

"What are you talking about?" asked Claire innocently.

"Hobbes. What's going on with Hobbes? There's something I'm missing and you're gonna tell me what it is!" said Alex.

Claire stepped towards Alex with a sharp look in her eye. "Not here," she whispered tersely.

"What?" asked Alex.

Claire nodded towards the door. "Join me for some coffee across the street."

Alex sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I just had coffee."

"Join me anyway," said Claire as she walked through the Keep door.

Alex followed in annoyance behind her, rolling her eyes practically the whole walk across the street. When they finally got in the shop, she followed Claire to a booth in the back sitting right next to a payphone.

"Expecting a call?" asked Alex.

Claire ignored the comment and glared at Alex. "What do you think you know?"

"Well let's see. Besides the fact that there's no evidence proving that anyone was in Bobby's apartment the night he was attacked, plus the fact that half of his stuff is missing, I'd say something fishy is going on," said Alex. She took a deep breath to calm herself and then leaned forward, staring Claire curiously in the face. "Is he still alive?"

"I don't know if I can answer that question," said Claire.

"Why not?" asked Alex.

"Because it could jeopardize everything," said Claire.

"What are you talking about?" asked Alex.

Claire leaned back in her seat, fidgeting nervously. "Look, you have to decide right now if I can trust you."

"You can. You know you can," said Alex.

Claire shook her head. "No I don't. If any of this gets back to the Official, then we're all finished. Careers, lives, everything. You have to decide if this secret is worth knowing and worth keeping."

"Does it have anything to do with Darien?" asked Alex.

Claire sighed. "It has everything to do with Darien. You can either keep quiet and help us, or you can leave and forget this conversation ever took place. It's you're choice. If your not willing to risk everything, than get out."

Alex stared long and hard at Claire, weighing her options. She slowly stood up from her chair, ready to bolt this place and forget she had ever known Darien Fawkes. But then her mind suddenly flashed to the night before, when she had witnessed his looks of pain and terror firsthand. The memory was enough to break her heart and she paused, contemplating her next move. There was another flash, this one of Darien's face when he had first found out about Bobby's death. That convinced her. She slowly sat back down in the chair, tapping her hands firmly against the table. "Tell me," she said softly.

Claire nodded, a somewhat surprised look spreading across her face. "Okay," she replied. "A few weeks ago, I got the cure for the madness from Arnaud, but the Official took it away from me before I could do anything with it and destroyed it."

"Wait a minute, he just took it? Why would he do that?" asked Alex in a surprised tone.

"Because he wants Darien under lock and key. Actually, let me rephrase that. He wants anyone with the gland under lock and key. When Darien finally goes off the deep end for real and the Official has squeezed every last penny out of him, he's dead," said Claire.

"And Bobby?" asked Alex quietly.

"Bobby's alive," said Claire.

Alex couldn't stop the small smile that spread across his features. "So he's not dead. I take it Fawkes doesn't know."

"No, he doesn't," said Claire. "We couldn't let him in on the plan and risk alerting the Official."

"The plan?" asked Alex.

"Bobby went after Arnaud to get the cure for Darien," said Claire.

Alex let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. "I thought something was going on…but…but this? I never would've guessed…How did you…"

"Details aren't important," interrupted Claire. "Just know that we did it."

"Who else knows?" asked Alex.

"Bobby, me and now you. No one else and it's to stay that way. Darien can't no about any of this," said Claire.

Alex sat in shocked silence, barely registering the sound of the phone, which had just started to ring.

Claire quickly picked it up and answered it. "Is that you?" she asked. "Did you get to him?…What?…Oh dear lord," she said, a look of horror spreading over her face. "And how does he…no…look, I've got something I need to tell you too…Alex, she knows. No, she's okay…we can trust her. Wait a minute, Bobby…I think I know how we can pull this off, if Alex is willing to help that is," she said glancing up at Alex. "Hold on," said Claire as she covered the receiver with her hand. "He found Arnaud," she said.

"Yes, that much I gathered. What do you need from me?" asked Alex.

Claire around the coffee shop cautiously and then leaned forward. "He needs you to steal the quicksilver you've been looking for from Chrysalis and give it to him."

"What?" asked Alex furiously. "Give me the phone," she said as she practically ripped the phone out of Claire's hand. "Bobby, are you nuts?"

"Nice to talk to you too, Monroe," came the distinct voice of Bobby Hobbes over the receiver.

Alex laughed slightly. "Sorry. Glad you're not dead. But are you nuts?"

"Some people would probably argue that yes, in fact, I am," said Bobby.

"So Arnaud wants the quicksilver for the cure, is that right?" asked Alex.

"In a nutshell. But there's more to this twisted little tale," said Bobby.

"And what would that be?" asked Alex.

"De Phon told me that it was the Official's idea to cook up the quicksilver madness germ for Fawkes' gland," said Bobby.

"And you believed him?" said Alex incredulously.

"Yeah I do. I really do," said Bobby. "So back to the point, you gonna do this?"

"How?" asked Alex. "Fawkes is going to be two steps behind me the whole time. How the hell am I going to steal it out from under his nose? And how am I supposed to find it?"

"Second part's taken care of already. I got a reliable tip from Hobbesnet telling me that the quicksilver is set to be moved a week from now to a storage facility out in the desert, where it will be utilized for whatever nasty little surprise Chrysalis has in store. Seems that the buggies got a little nervous about us finding the stuff and that's why they've been moving it around. But the desert is supposed to be the final resting place for the juice until the master plan goes into effect," said Bobby.

"Hobbes, we've been chasing tips for the last month and nothing has panned out. What makes you think this one's going to any better?" asked Alex.

"Because it has to be, sweetheart," answered Bobby. "I can't show my face in your neck of the woods until I've got the cure in my hands. You're gonna have to help me do this or otherwise, Fawkes will be a memory." There was a pause on the phone and an audible sigh. "Can you do it?"

Alex closed her eyes and nodded, even though Bobby couldn't see her. "Yeah, I can do it," she said softly.

"Good. I'll call back in a few days with rendezvous instructions," said Bobby. "And Monroe, thanks."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said Alex.

"Take care of Fawkes for me, okay," said Bobby.

"Yep," said Alex.

"Good luck," said Bobby.

"You too," said Alex as she handed the phone back to Claire.

"It's all going to work out just fine, Bobby," said Claire into the phone.

"I know," said Bobby. "Catch you later, darling."

"Bye," said Claire, hanging up the phone.

Claire and Alex both looked at one another awkwardly, in a battle over who was going to say the first word. Claire was the one who finally did. "I can't believe the Official ordered the quicksilver madness," she said in an upset tone.

"I can," said Alex. "Men like that have to be in control of everything."

"A pure ego thing," said Claire. "If Darien ever found out, I don't know what he would do."

"Well let's make sure that he doesn't, shall we," said Alex, standing up.

"Alex," said Claire, drawing out her name.

"Look, don't even bother okay. I'm in this with you guys all the way. You can trust me," she responded.

"What if it costs you your career? Will you take it out on Darien?" asked Claire.

"Claire, my job is to protect people's lives. What good of an agent am I if I can't even protect the people close to me?" asked Alex.

"That's kind of why I did it. That, and I think Darien deserves more than he's gotten. Plus, he's my friend and I know he would do the same for any one of us," said Claire.

"You're right about that, Keep," said Alex softly. "Look, I've got to get back and see what Fawkes is doing. I'll come by later and maybe we can talk some more about this. Figure our way through some of the holes in your plan."

"And what makes you think there's any holes?" asked Claire, slightly offended.

Alex smirked. "Never mind," she said as she started to walk towards the door. "Fawkes is lucky to have you guys."

"He's lucky to have us," said Claire, emphasizing the us. "And we're damn lucky to have him," she concluded. 

"Yeah," said Alex as she took one last glimpse of Claire and then walked out the door.

TBC


	10. Part 8

Over the Edge (8/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: Everything's about to come together and hit the fan. Enjoy the ride and thanks for reading!

A week later- San Diego

"So in conclusion, I want the quicksilver brought back here to the Agency where it will be appropriated for official government use. I don't care how you do it, just make sure that Chrysalis doesn't keep their greedy little paws on it," said the Official in a firm tone. He gazed at Darien and Alex who sat in chairs in front of his desk, both looking weary and worn out. "What's the matter, kiddies?"

"Just how the hell do you expect us to do this, sir?" asked Darien in a tone that betrayed the exhaustion evident in his features. In short, the kid looked like hell. His hair was messy, he had several days worth of stubble and his eyes were dry and red-rimmed, almost reminding the Official of quicksilver madness. A glance at Darien's tattoo confirmed what the Keeper had informed him of that morning after Darien's shot. The indicator only filled to four segments now, meaning Darien needed a shot approximately every other day or after ten minutes of quicksilver use. Either way, time was running out for his invisible man and he needed to make use of him while he was still there. But why was the thought of Darien permanently insane and then dead giving the Official not only a massive headache, but also seemed to be flaring up his ulcer?

The Official shook the thought from his head and then cleared his throat. "I have complete confidence in the two of you."

"Gee, thanks sir," said Alex in a sickening sweet tone.

Darien raised his hand. "I've got a question."

"Yes? What?" the Official grumbled.

"How do you know this tip is legit? I mean so far, every time we've gotten in half a mile of this stuff, the carpet's been pulled out from under us and we land flat on our asses. What makes you think this one's going to be different?" asked Darien.

"Better source," said the Official simply.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Darien.

"Just do the job," said the Official.

"Or what, you'll kill me? That's where all of this is leading anyway, sir, isn't it? I mean what, a couple days tops and I'll be cuckoo for cocoa puffs and then you'll put a bullet in my brain," said Darien.

"Not your brain. We wouldn't want to damage the gland," said the Official dryly.

Darien stood up, anger coursing through his veins. "You son of a bitch," he said, stepping menacingly towards the Official.

"Fawkes, that's enough," said Alex, standing up and pushing him back in his chair. "Just calm down.

Darien glared at her. "Oh right, that's easy for you to say, Monroe. You're not the one who's going to be dead and buried this time next week," he said. "Hell, he probably won't even pay for a funeral. Just throw my body in the dumpster and be rid of me once and for all," he said, giving the Official a cold glance. "Hey Charlie, you got another guinea pig all picked out and ready to go? Yeah, I'll bet you skipped the little part about the need for Visine and life insurance in the ole sales pitch there."

It was the Official's turn to stand up and glare at Darien. "Keep it up, kid, keep it up. You're death can be arranged very quickly."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Get an agent who'll kiss your ass and do whatever the hell you want. I've been a nightmare right from the start, huh Charlie," said Darien, bordering on being hysterical. "You know, I wish for one second you could feel what this was like," he said, shoving his wrist towards the Official. "If you could know the pain and the suffering and the fear that I live with everyday…if you could know that and still do what you're doing, then you must be the devil himself."

Alex ran a hand down Darien's back and then pulled on his arm. "Come on Fawkes, let's get out of here, we've got a job to do."

Darien shrugged out of her grip and moved towards the desk, staring the Official in the eye. "How do you live with yourself? How can you look in the mirror and be proud of what you see?"

"That's easy, son," answered the Official. "I look in the mirror and see all the people whose lives my devilish routine has helped to save."

Darien snorted. "Yeah," he whispered. "Just not the ones that count," he said pointedly as he pounded his hand on the desk and then strutted out the door.

Alex stood staring after Darien for a moment before her gaze shifted to the Official. "He has a point," she said quickly as she joined Darien outside.

The Official sighed and sat back down in his chair, his gaze falling on a set of files of government agents drafted for the next I-man project. Alex Monroe's file was at the top of the pile. He stared at the file for a moment before tossing it into the pile of rejects on the floor. As he started searching through the other files, he noticed that his eyes were playing tricks on him. Every picture of eager government agents wanting to serve their country seemed to morph into pictures of Darien either in pain, fear or quicksilver madness. As he continued going through the stack, the pictures morphed into Kevin; staring at him, accusing him, shaking his head in disappointment. The Official cursed silently and then swept all the files onto the floor before abruptly leaving his office to find something to settle his rumbling stomach.

**

"You sure you can do this?" asked Alex as she gazed over at Darien from the driver's seat of one of the Agency's van. The van, along with two others just like it, was parked half a mile away from the desert headquarters of Chrysalis. They were ready to make their move and get the quicksilver. Little did they know that one of their own was about to snatch it right out from under them.

Darien glanced over at Alex and nodded. "Yeah."

"Look, if it gets to be too much, just get out of there. We'll handle things," said Alex.

Darien laughed. "You don't have to treat me with kid gloves just because I'm on death row, Alex."

Alex rolled her eyes. "I'm just worried that you'll try to beat the crap out of one of us."

Darien patted his heart. "You're concern for me is overwhelming. Really, I'm touched here."

"Shut up and get in there," said Alex in irritation as she gave Darien a shove towards the door.

"Ouch," said Darien, pulling out his microphone and receiver. "You're pretty strong there for a chick," he said teasingly as he started to get out of the van.

"Care to have a first hand demonstration?" asked Alex.

"Um, you know what? I think I'm gonna pass," said Darien as he got fully out of the van and shut the door behind him.

"I think that would be best," said Alex. "Be careful. When you find the stuff, let us know."

"Gotcha," said Darien as he started strolling casually towards a smallish dot of black in the distance.

Alex sighed and checked her watch nervously, hoping that the plan would work. She fingered a small explosive charge in her pocket that she had stashed there the night before. Hopefully, no one would have to get hurt.

As Darien neared the warehouse, he let the quicksilver flow over his body, rendering him completely invisible and simultaneously cooling him off from the hot rays of the desert sun. He cautiously made his way into the building, noticing only a few cars parked in the sandy lot just outside the main entrance. He made his way down a hallway and turned right, ending up in a corridor of small laboratories. It was then that he started getting the first twinges of a quicksilver headache. He let a soft groan of pain escape his lips as he started peering in the windows of each laboratory.

"You okay, Fawkes?" he heard Alex ask in his microphone.

"Oh, just peachy," said Darien.

"You found it, yet?" asked Alex.

"Patience is a virtue, sister. Just keep your pants on," said Darien. He contemplated his chosen words and smirked. "Maybe that was the wrong choice of words there."

"Haha," he heard Alex say sarcastically over the wire.

Darien smiled and continued down the hall, his eye landing on a bigger lab marked 107. He quickly put his nose against the glass and peered inside, noticing four huge canisters hooked to some kind of refrigeration unit. "Bingo, we have a match, Vanna. Can I buy a vowel?" said Darien into the mike.

Alex grabbed her gun and signaled to the agents in the other vans. "Stay put, Fawkes, we'll be right there," she said as she started in a fast sprint towards the warehouse.

Darien was about to take himself out of the line of fire when a wave of pain tore through his skull. He shouted and doubled over in pain, holding his aching head, feeling as if an ice pick was stabbing him in the neck.

"Who's out there?" he heard someone shout.

"Aw crap," he groaned out as he struggled to stand up.

At that instant, someone pulled an alarm and the sound starting echoing through the halls, causing the thudding in Darien's head to worsen. "Doesn't anyone use silent alarms anymore?" he shouted out to no one in particular.

A few seconds later, he was joined in the hallway by a dozen guards, all wearing thermal goggles. "Now where did you guys come from?" he shouted as he dived through the glass windows of one of the labs, trying to avoid catching a bullet. "Any time, Monroe," he shouted into his mike.

He cautiously ducked his head up towards the edge of the window and saw a group of men in black hurry into the room storing the quicksilver. "Monroe, they're getting away with the goods here," shouted Darien.

At the moment, he heard a flurry of shouts ring out from the other side, signaling that the Agency had arrived and was ready to do battle. Darien would have joined them if his head wouldn't have exploded into a fireball of pain that left him panting on the ground in a curled ball of agony.

"Fawkes, what's your position?" he heard Alex shout into the mike.

"On the floor of hell," whimpered Darien.

Alex, who was towards the back of the line of agents taking down the Chrysalis guards, stepped towards one of the broken lab windows and saw Darien moaning on the ground. She cursed in frustration and looked up to see the Chrysali men in black hauling out the containers of quicksilver behind the cover of the Chrysalis guards. "Fawkes, hang in there," she shouted as she quickly dived into the room next to him. She ran her hand down his back and turned his head so they were face to face. "I need you to quicksilver me."

"What?" groaned Darien.

"Just do it," said Alex urgently as she glanced up and saw the men in black getting further and further down the hall.

Darien reached out his hand and touched Alex, sending a wave of silver and then nothing over her body.

"How do I make this last?" asked Alex as she stood up.

"Luck and concentration," he said as he curled further into himself, holding his aching head. "Alex, it's bad."

"Hold on," she said in a fluster as she reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a shot of counteragent. She quickly injected the contents into Darien's neck and watched as the younger man convulsed and then fell into unconsciousness. "Hold on for me," she whispered in his ear. 

She cautiously peered through the broken window and when she saw that it was clear, jumped back through it into the hallway. She started running in the opposite direction of the other agents, heading towards the front door. She sprinted out the front exit and quickly ran around to the back, where the men in black were loading the canisters into a black van. Fortunately for her, none of them were wearing thermal glass. She took the first one out with a hard kick to the head, the second with a punch to the nose and the third with a good old fashioned kick to the groin, coupled with a smack across the face. Then she quickly grabbed the canisters in their storage cart and opened one up, letting more quicksilver flow over her and the canisters. She took the explosive out her jacket and quickly activated it, hooking it to the back door of the Chrysalis vehicle. Then she tore off through the desert to her car, which she had stashed the night before about a quarter mile west in the opposite direction of the Agency vans. She ignored the force and the heat of the van explosion that went off seconds later as she continued in a dead race towards her car. When she finally reached it, she opened the door and hooked the canisters into a small refrigeration unit, cursing the fact that her Corvette didn't have a back seat.

Two minutes later, she was sprinting back to the Chrysalis building, eyeing the flames shooting up from the van. She quickly ducked back inside, where she saw the Agency had managed to out maneuver the Chrysalis guards. She expected to find Darien awake and groggy in the position she had left him, but instead, she found him moaning in pain, clutching the back of his head. "Fawkes," she yelled urgently as she jumped through the window and knelt down next to him. 

"It didn't work," said Darien urgently as he started pawing at the back of his neck. "Aw crap, Alex, it's so bad," he moaned, tears of pain dripping from his eyes.

Alex ran a hand through his hair and then grabbed his wrist, noting to her dismay that the tattoo was at two green eight red.

"Alex!" groaned Darien, his body starting to shake from the agony. "Do something, please do something."

Alex nodded and then did the only thing she could think of. She took out her gun and whacked Darien on the head, knocking him out cold. She then signaled to an agent that she recognized standing several feet outside the lab. "Agent Draper, I need you to help me get Agent Fawkes back in our van," she instructed the blonde hulking agent.

Agent Draper nodded and quickly stepped into the room, eyeing Darien's still form on the floor. 

"Come on," said Alex impatiently.

"What about the quicksilver?" asked Agent Draper as he put his arms under Darien and slung him over his back.

"Chrysalis blew it up. It's all gone," she said as she followed the agent down the hall. "I need to get him back to see his doctor. Have the other agents clean up here and report back to the Agency with the Chrysalis guards in custody," instructed Alex firmly.

"Yes ma'am," said Agent Draper as he walked outside, Alex keeping in step right next to him.

They reached the van a few minutes later, where the agent set Darien in the passenger's seat and buckled him in. "It's too bad, you know. He was kind of a cool guy," said the agent, nodding towards Darien.

Alex sighed. "He still is," she said as she started the van and tore off, leaving Agent Draper drenched in a storm of desert sand.

TBC


	11. Part 9

Over the Edge (9/?)

By Carol M

See prologue for details

Bring the ropes and hold on tight! Enjoy it, kids!

"Oh my god, what happened?" asked Claire anxiously as she watched Alex enter the Keep with a very psychotic and a very restrained Darien on a stretcher. She dashed over to the pair and tried to grab for Darien's wrist, which he harshly tried to pull away from her.

"The counteragent didn't work," said Alex as she sidestepped Darien's flailing leg and tried to ignore the crimson eyes gleaming back at her. "He was at two green three red, I gave him a shot and he passed out. I left for a few minutes and when I came back he was still at two green, screaming his head off from the pain."

"Bitch hit me," yelled Darien. He growled in anger and tried to lunge at Alex.

Alex ignored him and looked at Claire. "He was unconscious in the van for awhile and then woke up half nuts. I barely got him restrained before he completely lost it."

"Okay," said Claire in a calm voice. She quickly stepped towards the refrigerator and pulled out a vial of counteragent. Then she grabbed a syringe from a drawer and stepped back to Darien.

"What are you going to do?" asked Alex.

"I'm giving him a double dose," said Claire as she filled the syringe to the brim and then ejected the air bubbles.

"Whoa, whoa, won't that just make the immunity worse?" asked Alex as she once again sidestepped Darien's flailing limb.

"Possibly, but we don't really have much of a choice, do we?" said Claire. "If it works, it might buy us some time." She guided her arm towards Darien's neck, trying to ignore the psychotic anger in his eye.

"More shots, huh, Keepie?" spit Darien. "You can take your damn shots and shove em up your…"

Before Darien could finish, Claire injected the contents into his neck, which immediately sent him into violent convulsions that went on for several seconds. His eyes gradually rolled up in his head and he slumped back against the stretcher, unconscious.

"Let's see where we are, shall we?" said Claire as she reached for Darien's wrist to check the monitor. "Three and…a half green, six and a half red. It worked," she said as she gave Alex a triumphant smile.

Alex nodded. "Thank god."

Claire unbuckled Darien from the restraints and put away the counteragent equipment. "How did the assignment go?" she asked, barely containing her eagerness.

"The quicksilver was destroyed," said Alex, winking slightly.

"Good. At least now Chrysalis can't use it for some diabolical scheme," said Claire.

"Yeah," said Alex, nodding towards Darien. "When are we…you know?" she trailed off, looking at Claire.

"The sooner, the better," whispered Claire.

A soft groan alerted the pair that Darien was starting to wake up. They both stepped to him, gazing down at him curiously.

"Darien, how do you feel?" asked Claire.

Darien moaned and slowly sat up, rubbing his head. "Like hell," he said, fingering a large bump on the back of his head. "Damn Monroe, you clocked me a good one," he said.

"You wanted me to do something," said Alex sarcastically.

"Yeah well…thanks. I think," said Darien as he gazed down at his tattoo. "The counteragent worked?" he asked curiously.

"Um Darien, why don't we go across the street and get some coffee," said Claire nonchalantly.

"Coffee?" asked Darien in a confused tone.

"Yeah, coffee sounds great," said Alex as she grabbed Darien's arm.

"Latte, expresso," said Claire as she grabbed Darien's other arm and started leading him out of the Keep.

"Guys, what's going on?" asked Darien.

"Whip cream…chocolate sprinkles," continued Alex.

"Frozen coffee…the kind where your teeth crunch on tiny pieces of ice," said Claire as they led him outside.

"Have you chicks lost it?" said Darien as they dragged him across the street towards the coffee shop.

"The pretty cups and the packs of sugar that you drown your coffee in," said Claire as they led him inside the shop.

"And what about the smell? You can't beat the smell," said Alex as they nonchalantly guided Darien through the coffee shop and out a back door.

"Okay you guys are starting to scare me now," said Darien as he was dragged towards a silver Honda.

"Get in," said Alex as she clamored into the front seat.

"What the hell?" asked Darien in confusion.

"Darien, just get in," said Claire as she got in the passenger's seat.

Darien threw up his arms in frustration and got in the back seat. "What are we doing?" he asked as Alex pulled into an alley that led towards the main road.

"Getting you to a safe place," said Claire.

"Why?" asked Darien.

"Because you're almost out of gas, my friend," said Alex as she pulled out into the street and sped off towards the highway.

"Okay guys, maybe I'm not getting something here…what…"

"The Official is going to try and kill you, Darien. Now that the quicksilver is destroyed, he doesn't have a use for you. He'll lock you up until you reach madness and then have the gland removed at the most optimal time," said Claire. "We're trying to make sure that doesn't happen."

"Claire…how do you…you can't cure me," said Darien.

Claire turned around and gave Darien an intense stare. "Don't give up hope, Darien. Not now," she said softly.

Darien took a deep breath and nodded his head, a little surprised at the lengths that Claire and Alex were going to keep him safe. He felt touched. "Thanks," he said sincerely.

"Don't mention it," said Claire with a smile.

Alex pulled onto the highway and drove for about twenty minutes before she abruptly got off on an exit. Then she pulled into the parking lot of The Sands Inn, a cheap looking dive right off the exit. Alex reached into her pocket and pulled out a key. "Room 106 in the back," she said as she handed the key to Claire.

Claire nodded and glanced at Darien. "Come on, Darien," she said as she got out of the car.

"Wait, where are you going?" he asked Alex as he too got out of the car.

"I've got to get back to the Agency. The Official might get suspicious," answered Alex.

"What are you guys not telling me?" asked Darien as he followed Claire towards their room. 

"No questions, Darien," said Claire as she unlocked the motel room and stepped inside.

Darien followed in behind her and plopped down on a couch that was situated near the window. Claire took a seat in a nearby chair and blew out a breath.

"So what now?" asked Darien.

"We wait," said Claire nervously.

"Great," said Darien as he lay down on the couch to quell his aching brain.

**

Alex had no intention of going back to the Agency. Instead, she drove out to her Corvette in the desert and ditched the Honda she had rented. Then she hightailed it to the Mexican border, praying that she wouldn't be stopped be customs. As it turned out, luck was on her side and she was allowed to simply drive through the gates that led south of the border. She drove about a half hour until she neared the address where she was supposed to meet Bobby.

Even though she had found out that Bobby was still alive a week ago and had suspected as much even longer, it still came as a shock when she pulled into the parking lot of where they were meeting and saw Bobby sitting on the hood of his car. It sent a shock right through her system that she hadn't expected. Apparently, Bobby Hobbes meant a whole lot more to her than she had ever imagined.

She parked her car parallel to his rental car and then stepped out of her car, eyeing Bobby somewhat wistfully.

Bobby checked his watch and shook his head. "You're late."

Alex shook her head and stepped forward, holding her arms out towards Bobby. With a look of slight shock Bobby stepped forward and gave Alex a quick hug. "Aww, Monroe, I didn't know you cared," said Bobby in a touched tone.

"Well now you know," she said as she pulled out of the hug. She looked him up and down and noticed how tired and stressed out he looked. "Death doesn't do much for your appearance, my friend."

Bobby snorted. "You try keeping up with the hoods in this place and see how you look."

Alex nodded and then opened her car door, scooting into the back to pull out the canisters of quicksilver.

"Plan work okay?" asked Bobby as he helped her transfer the containers from her car to his.

"Yep, went off without a hitch," said Alex as they got the last of the quicksilver in the car.

"What about Fawkes? How's he doing?" asked Bobby with concern.

Alex sighed. "He's hanging in there. He doesn't have much time."

Bobby nodded grimly in understanding and then checked his watch. "I've got a meet with our Swiss friend in about three hours to exchange the goods."

"Think you could use a little back up?" said Alex with a crooked smile.

Bobby firmly shook his head. "No way, Monroe. I don't want anyone else in on this thing. Arnie might get spooked if he sees too many of us."

"So what do you want me to do? Go back to San Diego and play babysitter until you bring the stuff?" asked Alex.

"Pretty much," said Bobby, looking down at his feet. "You know, Alex, when this is all over, we might not have jobs."

Alex nodded her head. "Yeah, I know."

"And you're okay with that?" asked Bobby.

Alex shrugged. "A person with my qualifications can get hired just about anywhere. I'm not too worried. Besides, I was thinking of taking a little personal sabbatical. You know, travel, see the world."

"I think you've already seen the world there, Monroe," said Bobby.

"Yeah, but not as a regular, plain clothes American tourist. It's time to get back to my roots," said Alex.

"Maybe," said Bobby as he stepped towards her car.

Alex suddenly stepped forward and pressed a light kiss against his head. "Be careful and good luck."

"Same to you, sister," said Bobby as he got into the car. "Keep em safe."

"Aye, aye captain," said Alex.

And with that, Bobby pulled out of the parking lot, leaving Alex to stare after him and contemplate all that had happened over the last couple of weeks.

**

"Claire, what are we doing here? What else is going on?" asked Darien suddenly after nearly an hour of complete silence. He was still laying on the couch and had unsuccessfully tried to get some sleep. Instead, he had pondered what his life had suddenly become and was trying to figure out all the little wrinkles that just didn't make sense.

"We're hiding out, that's all," said Claire.

"From who, the big, bad Official? Or is someone else supposed to put in an appearance?" asked Darien as he sat up and patted the seat next to him.

Claire stood up and sat down where she was wanted, a small smile spreading across her face. "Don't worry about anything. Everything's going to be fine."

"So you got something cooking in that big sneaky brain of yours?" asked Darien.

"Possibly," said Claire smugly.

Darien laughed for a moment and then sighed, resting his head against the top of the couch. "I'm so scared," he admitted in a whisper.

Claire gave him a sympathetic glance and then grasped his hand in hers. "Hey," she said gently. "I know it's been hard. But we're going to get you through this."

Darien nodded. "I wish Hobbes were here," he said softly. "That's probably been the toughest part of this whole thing, you know. Not having me best friend here with me, egging me on. Hobbes was always good at motivational speaking."

"Yes he was," said Claire with a smile.

"I wish I could've been in there with him when he…you know…went. If he was still here, I'd want him with me when I die," said Darien sadly.

"Darien, he is still here," said Claire.

"Yeah, yeah, don't give me all that crap about spirits and ghosts, okay. I don't believe in any of it," said Darien.

"What about what's right in here?" said Claire, patting his heart. "Memories…good times and bad."

"You getting all spiritual on me now, Keep?" asked Darien.

"Possibly," said Claire, turning to look Darien in the eyes. "Darien, whatever happens, I just wanted to let you know how much I care about you. You're a good friend and I love you with all my heart. Your like my family."

Darien smiled slightly. "Well thanks, Keep," he said sincerely. "That means a lot. I pretty much always figured I was just some guy you just got stuck taking care of."

"Never," said Claire. She leaned up and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

Darien responded by putting his arm around her and pulling her tightly against his body, wanting and needing the feel of another warm body in his arms. He would've been able to fall asleep right at that moment if the sounds of several SUVs coming from the parking lot wouldn't have suddenly pervaded his senses. "What the hell?" he said as he glanced at an equally perplexed Claire.

Claire darted off the couch and went to the window, sighing in anger when she saw four Agency vehicles shifting into park right outside their room. "Bloody hell, they found us!" said Claire in anger.

Darien got off the couch and grabbed Claire's hand, quicksilvering the both of them as he stepped towards the kitchen where he spotted a medium sized window. He was about to try and open it and shove them both through when the front door was kicked down and an army of men armed with guns and thermal glasses entered the room.

"Drop the quicksilver Fawkes!" shouted one of them.

"Like hell," said Darien as he continued to try and pry the window open.

"That's enough, Fawkes," came a voice that both Darien and Claire knew all too well.

"No!" said Claire as she dropped the quicksilver and watched in horror as the Official stepped into the room amongst the other agents. "How did you find us?" she cried out.

"Let's just say I had hunch that this might happen. I put a chemical tracker in the counteragent. Lead us right to you," said the Official. "Hide and seek is over, kiddies. Time to go back to the Agency."

Claire firmly shook her head. "You're not taking him! You can't!" she screamed in a harsh tone.

"Oh I can and I will doctor," said the Official angrily. "Shame on you for trying to hide him. You might be facing criminal charges."

"No more criminal charges than you'll be facing, sir. What do they call it when you come up with a way to chain a man to a drug for his sanity? And what exactly do they call it when his doctor finds away to cure him and you take the cure away from her?" said Claire coldly.

The sound of flaking quicksilver was the only sound that filled the room after Claire's statement. Darien gazed at Claire with a look of shock on his face. "What did you say?"

Claire nodded towards the Official. "He was the one who came up with the idea for quicksilver madness. And he was also the one who took away the cure after Arnaud supplied me with it."

Darien gulped in breath and swallowed loudly in shock. Then without warning, he lunged at the Official, ready to tear his eyes or his heart out, whichever came first. Unfortunately, the other agents anticipated the move and quickly jumped him, sending him down to the floor in a tangle of fists and limbs. They picked him off the ground and cuffed his arms behind his back.

"You won't get away with this!" yelled Claire as she too was grabbed by the agents and handcuffed.

"I'd say it's a little too late for that, Dr. Keeply," said the Official coldly. He turned to the handful of agents who were not busy holding Darien and Claire. "Wait for Monroe. Something tells me she'll come back. When she gets here, bring her back to the Agency as well."

And with that, he herded his troop of agents out the door, dreading what he had to do next.

TBC


	12. Part 10

Over the Edge (10/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Tiny spoiler for Germ Theory in this part

More of the same. Have fun kids and don't kill me!

"This is evil," said Claire as she stared at Darien through the two-way mirror into the padded room. He was restrained in a straight jacket and was currently writhing on the floor in agony over a quicksilver madness headache. The speaker inside the room was broadcasting every little groan and whimper Darien made, causing her stomach to split in two. But she couldn't do a damn thing about it. She was seated in a chair in the observation room, surrounded by agents to make sure she couldn't move a muscle.

"It's just business, doctor. You knew that from the start," said the Official from his position across the room. He turned to look at a young nerdy looking man with thick glasses and a doctor's jacket. "How long before we can remove it?"

The doctor flipped open a file and began sorting through several pages of information. "According to the information you provided, the gland should be removed when the subject reaches what you call stage five madness. The subject's mind and body chemistry will be somewhat detached from the gland, and I believe this will give us the best results for its removal."

"What about the gland? Will it be damaged due to the madness?" asked the Official.

The doctor shook his head. "No. The madness is caused by a chemical reaction in the body because the gland. The gland itself always remains the same."

"Good," said the Official as he gazed into the padded room, staring at Darien.

Claire shook her head angrily as she watched the doctor step out of the room. "You won't get away with this," she shouted, her eyes blossoming with tears. "You are a heartless cold blooded monster, and I can't believe you would do this to someone that I know you care about."

"He's just a gland receptacle, Dr. Keeply, nothing more," said the Official coldly.

"No," said Claire in a biting tone. "He's so much more and you know it. Don't do this. Don't put him through this," she said in a pleading tone.

The Official looked at Darien again, his own head aching in sympathy as he heard the shouts and whimpers coming out of the young agent. "I'll put him out of his misery."

"His misery has only just begun, sir," said Claire.

"Too bad," said the Official as he glanced at one of his agents. "Come and tell me when it's time to proceed."

"No you don't," shouted Claire. "If you're going to do this, you're going to bloody well watch. If you can't do that, you're a coward who doesn't deserve to have this job or anything else like it."

The Official grumbled angrily. "Fine," he said as he sat down in a seat next to her. He reached towards the speaker button to cut off the sound from the padded room, but Claire abruptly stopped his hand with her own.

"Don't," she said in a menacing tone. "You listen to him."

The Official gave her a cold stare and then relented, pulling his hand back. He sank back into his chair and stared straight ahead, trying to convince himself that this was all one big nightmare. But of course, if that were true, when was he going to wake up?

**

When Alex got off the exit towards the Sands Inn, she immediately noticed that something was up. The parking lot was filled with several vans that she recognized as belonging to the Agency. She drove into the parking lot anyway, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. She picked up her cell phone and began to dial Bobby's number, but was abruptly stopped when Agent Draper appeared in her window, sticking his gun against the glass..

"Out of the car, Agent Monroe," he said.

Alex punched a quick page into her phone, praying that Bobby would get it. Then she slowly stepped out of the car with her hands raised.

"You have to come with us," said Agent Draper as he grabbed her arm and started to lead her towards one of the vans.

"Where's Fawkes and Dr. Keeply?" she asked in anger, pulling out of his grasp.

"They've been taken back to the Agency. The Official asked for you to be brought back as well," he said as he grabbed her arm again and gave her a firm pull towards the van. "I'll have to ask you for your weapons."

Alex complied and gave up her weapons, figuring that the best thing to do was to cooperate and get back to Darien and Claire. Hopefully, she would be able to do something once she got there. She clamored into the back of one of the vans and stared out the back window as it was driven out of the parking lot, silently praying that everything was going smoothly in Mexico.

**

"Four canisters of quicksilver as requested," said Bobby as he set the four containers in a row on Arnaud's desk in the office of his hacienda.

"Very impressive monsieur," said Arnaud as he stood up and examined the canisters. "May I ask how you did it?"

"One explosion, a little bit of quicksilver and a buxom brunette. Any other questions De Phon or are you gonna give up your side of the merchandise?" asked Bobby impatiently.

"Ah yes, the cure," said Arnaud. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of a light blue substance. He started to hand it to Bobby and then abruptly pulled it back. "You know, I've been thinking, perhaps this is worth more than I had originally anticipated."

Bobby fumed with anger, reaching for a gun that wasn't there.

"Manuel has all your guns, remember," said Arnaud smugly.

Bobby put his hands in his pocket and nodded casually. "Yeah, he does. But he doesn't have this," he said as he stepped forward and placed a devastating kick to Arnaud's midsection. Arnaud doubled over and his grip on the vial loosened, allowing Bobby to grab it out of his hand. Once he had the vial, he reached into the Swiss man's coat and pulled a gun out of his waistband holster. "No tricks, De Phon," he said as he pointed the gun firmly against Arnaud's head. "We had a deal and I delivered," he said as several bodyguards entered the room all pointing their guns at Bobby. "Try it," he said as he positioned Arnaud in front of him as a shield and put him into a chokehold. He aimed his gun at the first canister, ready to blow it to bits.

"No!" choked out Arnaud. "Back off," he said to his guards.

The guards slowly started backing out of the room.

"That's a good little bad guy," Bobby whispered into his ear. "Now I'm just gonna take you with me for a little while and then I'll be out of your hair."

"I'm going to kill you and Fawkes," choked Arnaud harshly.

Bobby laughed. "Oh you're gonna kill us? How original! I've never heard that before," he said as he carefully walked himself and Arnaud out of the office.

"Go to hell," gasped Arnaud.

"Been there and done that, my friend. It's time to go back to the world," he said as he neared the door. "So how does it feel?"

"How does what feel?" choked out Arnaud.

"How does it feel to know you helped out your enemy?" asked Bobby.

"Oh it feels grand," whispered Arnaud harshly.

Bobby reached the front door and glanced at Manuel, who was eyeing them both tensely. "Give me my guns," he instructed the guard.

Manuel didn't move.

"Give me my guns or I'll blow his head off," said Bobby as he pressed Arnaud's gun against the Swiss man's head.

Manuel quickly stepped forward with several guns in his hands.

"Put them in my jacket pocket," instructed Bobby.

Manuel did what he was told and that stepped back.

"Thank you, gentleman. It's been a pleasure doing business with you. Now I'm just going to take your little boss here on a ride. You can come and pick him up in about thirty minutes along the main road. I see any of you lackeys beforehand and I execute the boss and alert the authorities about what's been going on out here. I guarantee a prison sentence would not be pleasant," he said he slowly opened the door and started backing out.

The guards all stayed inside the house, staring at him in shock.

As Bobby and Arnaud got further and further away from the house, the exterior guards started getting anxious, aiming their guns at them. Bobby simply kept the gun to Arnaud's head and constantly looked around to make sure no one had gotten behind him. "It's like I told the boys on the inside, I need your boss for a little while. You can pick him up later," he said as he finally reached his car. He got in through the passenger's seat, pushing Arnaud into the driver's seat. "Drive," he said, his gun still aimed at Arnaud's head.

Arnaud coughed and took a second to regain his lost breath from the chokehold. He then nodded slowly, turning the keys in the ignition. He quickly tore of from his hacienda, leaving his guards to wonder after him. "You won't get away with this," said Arnaud as he started to drive down the road.

"Oh I'd say I already have, Arnie. You might want to think of paying your guards a little more. They didn't seem to be too concerned about your well being," said Bobby.

"Oh believe me, once I've sold the quicksilver, I'll be rolling in riches," said Arnaud smugly.

"I'll bet you will," said Bobby. He forced Arnaud to drive another ten miles before he abruptly told the Swiss man to stop. Arnaud did what he was told and then looked over curiously at Bobby. 

"What now Hobbes?" asked Arnaud.

Bobby scooted over and pushed Arnaud out the door, causing him to land in a dusty, cursing heap on the ground. "Thanks for all your help," said Bobby pleasantly as he shut the door and pulled off. He looked in the rearview mirror to see Arnaud cursing and giving him various obscene gestures, which made Bobby smile in amusement. A moment later, his phone started to beep, signaling an incoming page. He quickly took it out of his pocket and checked out the source, seeing that the page was from Alex. "Taken to Agency, hurry," was what the typed message said.

Bobby groaned in anger and threw the phone down into the passenger's seat. Then he took the vial of blue stuff out of his pocket and stared at it, his heart beating wildly in his chest. "You better still be alive, Fawkes. If you're not, then I'm going to kill you myself." And with that, Bobby pushed his foot down on the gas as far as it would go, determined to get back to the Agency and save his partner.

**

The noise was what was getting to her. Darien had gone into stage three madness a little over ten minutes earlier and ever since, he had been trying to bash his way out of the padded room via the two-way mirror. Over and over he crashed his body against the mirror, a trace amount of blood from his head dripping down the pane. It was too much for Claire to take and she tried to do something, anything to distract herself from the image before her. She kept glancing at her watch, seeing the seconds ticking by faster and faster. "Where the hell are you Bobby?" she whispered to herself.

When the door to the observation room suddenly slammed open, Claire's heart leapt in her chest. She eagerly looked up and felt her heart drop in anger and disappoint when she saw Alex being led into the room by a flurry of agents.

"Ah, Ms. Monroe, nice of you to join us," said the Official pleasantly.

Alex glared at the Official and then stared in shock as she watched Darien try to manhandle himself thorough the mirror. "What the hell's going on?" she asked, eyeing Claire.

"Just waiting for the right time to take the gland out," said the Official.

Darien suddenly stopped his exploits and stared straight into the room, eyeing Claire and Alex in an eerie gaze. It was if he knew their position, even though they both knew he couldn't possibly see where they were in the room. His eyes begged for savior or death, they weren't sure which. Claire burst into tears and had to look away, but Alex continued to stare him the eyes, nodding her head slightly in encouragement. "Hold on, Fawkes," she whispered.

Suddenly, Darien fell to the floor in a pain-filled heap, his loud whimpers alerting them to his agony. He wailed on for several minutes as he writhed on the ground, the shouts of a near dead man almost too hard to take. "I'm gonna kill you, Fatman!" he shouted out through the pain. "I'm gonna freakin' kill you!" he yelled.

The Official looked visibly shaken and unconsciously scooted his chair away from the glass as he continued to watch Darien's agony. "How long?" he asked Claire.

"How long 'til you can salvage the gland?" she spit coldly, wiping at her tears.

"How much longer do we have to listen to this until he reaches stage five?" asked the Official anxiously.

"You're whole bloody life, sir," she shouted out.

"I'm sorry," said the Official sincerely.

"I don't give a damn!" shouted Claire. "You're a murderer."

"No I'm not," said the Official. "There's nothing we can do for him now."

"But there could have been! We could have saved him. He would be sane and healthy if you hadn't have taken his only chance away from him!" shouted Claire.

"He would have left," said the Official, trying to convince himself as much as Claire.

"No," said Claire. "He wouldn't have," she said simply. "We're his family. We're his life. He doesn't have anywhere else to go."

The Official cursed in anger, fighting his own tears. "He wouldn't have stayed, he wouldn't have stayed," he repeated over and over again under his breath.

Claire stood up, pushing off the agents that were latched to her. "Yes he would have, you son of a bitch!" she screamed.

And that was when they heard it. The sound of breaking glass. The group looked up to see Darien plowing straight into the room, his arms free of the straight jacket and his eyes fierce globes of red anger. Claire instantly grabbed Alex and pushed her out of the way, while the surrounding agents struggled to contain their invisible man. But Darien wasn't having any of it. He let his added adrenaline and anger fuel a fire that allowed him to fight off the three or four agents that had jumped on his back. He punched and kicked them until they were all sent into unconscious oblivion. The three remaining agents raised their guns at him, but Darien didn't seem to notice. Instead, he dived for the Official, wrapping his hands around his neck and pushing him harshly against the wall. "If I go, I'm taking you with me, Charlie," he said in such a cold tone that it sent shivers down the Official's spine.

The agents stood poised and ready to fire, but they were knocked on the ground by Claire and Alex, who retrieved their guns and trained them on the dumbfounded agents. "Don't even try it," said Alex as she saw one of the agents attempt to lunge at her.

The Official meanwhile, was trying desperately to fight off the overpowering Darien. On a normal day, the Official probably would have been able to take Darien no problem what with the difference in size and his boxing skills. But on this day, Darien was an animal fighting for his survival and he wasn't going down without a fight. As Darien pushed the Official against the wall, the Official retaliated with a knee to Darien's groin, causing the younger man to groan in pain and loosen his grip. This allowed the Official room to land a harsh punch to Darien's nose, breaking it almost instantly.

But Darien wasn't ready to give up. He grabbed the Official by the shoulders and shoved them both through the broken glass back into the padded room. "This is where it's gonna end fatman, you and me!" he shouted as he jumped on top of the Official and started to squeeze the life out of his boss. 

And that was when the door to the observation room opened, with an eager looking Bobby Hobbes holding a gun in one hand and a vial of light blue liquid in the other. He gazed at Claire and Alex and then immediately focused his attention on the brawl going on in the padded room. He watched in fascination as the Official landed a savage punch to Darien's cheek that sent him flying across the room. Then he watched as the Official got up and tried to run away, only to be crunched against one of the walls by Darien and quickly put into another chokehold.

That was when the Official looked up and saw Bobby Hobbes. His eyes grew to twice their normal size and he looked like he might pass out from the shock. "Hobbes," he choked out.

Bobby held out the vial in the air. "I give him the cure, and you let him live, or we'll let him kill you, and I'll give him the cure anyway," he said. "It's your choice."

TBC (hehehehe)


	13. Part 11

Over the Edge (11/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Still more angst and a little weepiness…Enjoy it! And thanks for reading!

The Official stared Bobby deep in the eyes, trying to determine if his agent was bluffing. But forty years plus experience of reading people told him that Bobby Hobbes was no bluffer. As stars started to form in front of his eyes, he gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head. "Cure him," he hoarsed out from beneath the painful pressure of Darien's grip on his neck.

Bobby nodded his head almost proudly. "Right away, chief," he said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe. He injected the contents of the vial into the syringe and then ejected the air bubbles like he had seen Claire do a thousand different times. Then he stepped forward cautiously, trying to avoid being smacked by his partner if he suddenly decided to turn around and interrupt the party.

But Darien was in his own little world. A world filled with anger, hate, fear and desperation. He had heard the voice of Bobby from behind him, but hadn't bothered to look. He knew it wasn't him. His mind was just playing tricks on him. That had to be it.

When Bobby reached Darien, he determined that a quick stab was the best way to go. It might be painful, but it was probably the safest way to proceed with the condition his partner was in. He held the syringe up in the air and then stabbed it into his partner's neck, his thumb ejecting the contents into Darien's body. Darien instantly turned around and let go of the Official, who slumped to the ground holding his neck and trying to catch his breath. 

When Bobby saw Darien's face, his breath caught in his throat. Darien's eyes had changed to a startling shade of silver and his face was dripping with blood from his broken nose. He looked like some kind of monster. Bobby unconsciously backed up, trying to avoid the wrath of the boogie man standing before him. "Easy, big guy," he said as he dropped the syringe on the floor and put his hands in the air.

Darien did a double take and tilted his head to the side like an animal trying to determine the origin of a harsh sound. He stepped forward slowly, not sure if the image in front of him was some kind of sick joke or some kind of sweet reward. "Bobby?" he whispered, his voice sounding more like Darien than that of a psychotic.

Bobby nodded slowly, glancing back at Claire and Alex for some kind of reinforcement. "Yeah Fawkes, it's me."

Darien shook his head and stepped closer. "You're dead."

Claire quickly climbed into the padded room and stood next to Bobby. "We faked it, Darien. It was all a big set up."

Darien started laughing then, a laugh so harsh and sick, it sent chills down Bobby's spine.

"For what?" giggled Darien, a look of intrigue on his face.

"So we could cure you," said Bobby.

Darien laughed again, his mouth forming a queer smile. "That's funny," he said as he stepped even closer to Bobby.

"It's no joke, my friend," said Bobby in a serious tone.

Darien stopped and contemplated the answer for a minute, a troubled look on his face. Bobby quickly motioned for Claire to get back in the observation room in case Darien wacko on them. She quickly complied when she saw the look on Darien's face. She stepped back into the observation room next to Alex, who like the other agents in the room, was watching everything go down with a look of morbid curiosity. Claire sighed and focused her attention on the padded room as well.

"Fawkes?" said Bobby, experimentally stepping forward. "Say something."

Darien took a deep breath and then suddenly rushed forward towards his partner.

Bobby expected to get pummeled. He expected to be punched, choked and kicked until his last words were purged from his body. But what he didn't expect was the firm hand that was suddenly placed against his cheek and the tight bear hug that came next.

"Hobbes," moaned Darien in a tone that sounded something like an injured animal. What came next was a sound that Bobby Hobbes would never forget as long as he lived. It was a sound that told him everything he ever needed to know about his friendship with Darien Fawkes. The sound was a harsh wail of relief, followed by a barrage of loud, choking sobs that started to wrack his partner's entire body.

Bobby's arms came around to Darien's back and he gently began rubbing up and down circles on his partner's shoulder blades "Me too, buddy, me too," he said, close to tears himself.

Darien rested his head on Bobby's shoulder then and hugged him even tighter, his breath coming in quick gasps. Bobby held him for several minutes in complete silence, just listening to the sounds of relief his partner was making. And then suddenly, he could feel his partner start to convulse violently in his arms.

"Ahhhhh," screamed Darien as his hand left Bobby's back and went to the back of his own head. His eyes started to swell with even more tears as his body convulsed painfully in a violent seizure.

"Keep!" yelled Bobby urgently as he gently lowered Darien to the ground, all the while supporting Darien's quivering body with his arms.

Claire stepped into the room just as Darien broke out into a second set of seizures more intense than the first.

"Keep, what's happening to him?" asked Bobby in a panicky voice.

Claire knelt down next to Darien and placed her hand firmly against Darien's chest, holding him in place so he wouldn't hurt himself. Darien let out a screech of pain and then slumped to the floor unconscious.

Bobby started pacing back and forth, cursing and muttering softly to himself. "Swiss bastard double crossed us. I knew we couldn't trust him. No good, evil son of a bitchin, mother fu…"

"Bobby," interrupted Claire suddenly. "Look."

Bobby stopped his tirade and glanced down at her, his ears not picking up the relief in her tone. When he saw what she was showing him, his heart starting beating wildly in his chest and he couldn't fight the tears of relief that started flowing from his eyes. The snake tattoo on Darien's wrist was all green.

"It worked," said Claire as she gently opened Darien's eyelid to reveal a brown eye staring back. She looked up at Bobby and smiled wildly, her face glowing with happiness. "Bobby, it worked!" she said excitedly.

Bobby let out a sigh and started laughing in relief. He glanced out into the observation room to see Alex battling tears and the other agents staring at one another in shock. He then glanced back at the Official, who was still sitting on the floor trying to recover. "You lost this one, chief," said Bobby softly.

The Official gazed up at him and nodded once. "Yeah," he said, his sad tone not matching the relief that Bobby could see in his eyes.

Bobby stepped forward and took out his wallet, pulling out his badge. "I quit," he said as he threw the badge down next to the Official.

"Me too," said Claire coldly as she looked up from examining.

"Me too," came a voice from the observation room.

Bobby and Claire both glanced up in shock as Alex stepped into the padded room and threw her badge down to the Official as well. Alex looked at Bobby and Claire and gave them a small smile. They both nodded in reply and then the trio gazed back at the Official to see what his reaction would be.

In short, there was none. The Official merely sighed and gave a barely visible nod of acceptance.

Bobby sat down next to Darien and pulled out his wallet, taking out Darien's badge. "I think it goes without saying that Fawkes quits as well," he said as he tossed Darien's badge at him.

The Official didn't respond. Instead, he simply gave the group a sad and disappointed nod.

"Lets get him out of here, shall we, ladies," said Bobby as he reached for Darien's shoulders. Claire and Alex both grabbed a leg and together, they carried him out of the padded room, leaving the Official to sit all alone on the stark white floors of the padded room to contemplate his past and his future.

**

"Its taking him long enough to wake up," said Bobby as he glanced down at the unconscious form of his partner. They had taken Darien back to his apartment, figuring that the Official wouldn't be stupid enough to try and track them down. Claire sat on the bed next to Darien repairing his broken nose, while Alex sat at the bar, nervously sipping on a glass of water.

"His body's been through a terrible shock, Bobby," said Claire as she placed a small ice pack against the Darien's swollen nose. "The cure to the quicksilver madness sent his system into overdrive. Coupled with finding out you were alive…well…let's just say it's not surprising he's still out."

"I hate waiting," said Bobby as he starting pacing the small loft.

"We know," said Alex in irritation.

"Can it, Monroe," said Bobby angrily.

Alex rolled her eyes and continued sipping her water.

"Whoa, whoa, Bobby," said Claire suddenly.

"What? What?" asked Bobby anxiously as he stepped next to the bed.  
"I think he's waking up," said Claire as she motioned to Darien's eyes, which had started to flutter. 

A low moan escaped Darien's lips and his eyes finally opened, looking glazed over and confused. "Whaz goin' on?" he managed as his hand reached up to remove the cold ice pack. "My nose," he moaned.

"Ya, that schnazz ain't looking too pretty, my friend," said Bobby.

Darien sat up suddenly in shock, glancing at Bobby with a terrified look on his face.

Bobby looked behind him and then threw up his hands in confusion. "What did I do?"

Claire put her hands on Darien's chest and gently lowered him back to the bed. "Easy, Darien, just calm down."

Darien started gasping for breath as he continued to stare at Bobby. "Claire, there's a ghost in here," he said in a terrified tone.

"What the hell's going on?" asked Bobby as he took a hold of Darien's arm. Darien snatched it away in fear and moved closer to Claire, snapping his eyes closed.

"Bobby, he's in shock. He probably doesn't remember what happened," said Claire as she herself grabbed a hold of Darien's arm. She pulled his arm up and twisted it so Darien could get a look at his wrist. "Darien, open your eyes," she said softly.

Darien shook his head and curled further against her, his head practically in her lap.

"Darien, open your eyes sweetheart, I have something to show you," said Claire.

"This isn't real," murmured Darien.

"Darien, we cured you. You remember that? In the padded room, Bobby injected you with the cure for quicksilver madness," said Claire. "Please open your eyes," she said as she motioned Bobby to get out of Darien's line of sight.

Bobby did as he was instructed and held his breath for Darien's reaction.

Darien slowly opened one eye, not quite able to focus on the color he was seeing.

"All the way, Darien," said Claire.

Darien took a deep breath and then opened his eyes, focusing on the tattoo in front of his gaze. The tattoo that was all green. He quickly looked up at Claire, his eyes a well of unshed tears. "I'm cured?" he asked tentatively, almost too afraid to believe it.

"You cured, and you're safe. We took care of the Official," said Claire. "And Bobby is alive. He's really alive, Darien, this isn't a trick."

Darien slowly sat up gazing from Claire to Alex and finally to Bobby with a look of gratitude, shock and genuine happiness on his face. "You guys did this?"

"Guilty," said Claire.

"Fraid so, partner," said Bobby.

Darien glanced over at Alex. "You knew about all this too?" he asked. "Even when we…"

"Not then," said Alex quickly, ignoring the strange glances from Bobby and Claire. "I had my suspicions and then Claire let me in on the big surprise a few days ago," she said as she got off the barstool and stepped next to the bed.

Darien shook his head in shock. "You guys did this for me? I mean…you risked everything just so I would be safe?" he said, a few tears trickling down his cheeks. "Why?" he whispered.

Bobby stepped forward then and put his hand directly over Darien's heart. "This is why, Fawkes. Because you're a good man with a big heart who didn't deserve the raw deal you got. Because you've helped more people in the last two years than you could ever comprehend. And most importantly, because we're your friends."

"And your family," added Claire.

"And we love you," said Alex.

Bobby and Claire nodded in agreement and then looked down at Darien, who was unsuccessfully battling a heavy bout of tears from the weeks of terror he had lived through and the sudden relief that had come his way. Not too mention the gratitude and love that had flooded his heart so full he thought it might burst. "Thanks, you guys," he whispered in a shaky voice. And then the battle was lost and he burst into tears.

Claire pulled him against her chest and started rubbing the back of his neck, while Bobby moved to the opposite side of the bed and sat down, rubbing Darien's back. Alex busied herself rubbing Darien's leg. Pretty soon, there wasn't a dry eye in the apartment.

"You guys," cried Darien. "I can't even begin to tell you how much all this means to me," he sobbed. "Thank you, thank you for the rest of my life." 

They all continued to cry for nearly a half hour until the tears dried up, only to be replaced by hiccups and sniffles. They all gradually broke apart and went to their respective corners of the room. Alex ended up back at the bar, Bobby on the couch, Claire on a chair and Darien in his bed. Darien cleared his throat loudly in embarrassment after a few minutes of awkward silence. "Um guys?"

They all looked at him curiously.

"Ah…what just happened…you know, the whole crying in each other's arms thing…Um…it never happened, if you know what I mean," he whispered softly, his face still red from the tears.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Claire as she blew her nose in a tissue.

"As far as I'm concerned you guys are all a bunch of freaks," said Alex, wiping at her red eyes with her hand.

"Bobby Hobbes doesn't cry, my friend," said Bobby, hiccuping away the remnants of his tears.

Darien smiled and then lay back against his bed, fingering his bruise nose. "How did you guys pull this off?"

"Patience, time and luck," answered Bobby.

"Where did you get the cure?" asked Darien.

"Arnaud," said Claire.

"Arnaud?" asked Darien. "How did you swing that?"

"Well um, see that's where the problem comes in," said Bobby as he got off the couch and stepped next to the bed. "You know that quicksilver the Agency has been trying to track down from Chrysalis?"

"Yeah?" said Darien curiously. "It was destroyed," he said, glancing over at Alex.

"Um, actually, it wasn't," said Alex. "I stole it and passed if off to Hobbes so he could give it to Arnaud."

"So you're telling me that Arnaud has four canisters of quicksilver?" asked Darien in a disbelieving tone.

Bobby cleared his throat. "That's affirmative," he said nonchalantly, nodding his head.

Darien looked around the room eagerly. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get it back!"

Bobby looked at Alex and shrugged his shoulders. "What do you say, Monroe? You up for a little work in the field?"

Alex got off the barstool and grinned. "Sure. A girl like me would love to come out and play with the big boys."

"Now wait a minute, I want to go too," said Claire with excitement.

Bobby shrugged again. "Why not, sweetheart. Since none of us are technically affiliated with any government agency at the moment, I'd say that gives us free reign to do whatever we want."

"Not technically affiliated?" asked Darien. "Are you saying we're all fired?"

"Quit, Fawkes, quit. There's a big difference," said Bobby.

Darien stared at his bed for a moment and shook his head. "Just when I think there can't be any more surprises," he said quietly.

Alex smiled and looked eagerly at Bobby and Claire. "So what do you say guys? Wanna catch a bad guy and kick his ass?"

"Sounds like a plan," said Bobby.

"Whoa, guys," said Claire, glancing at Darien with a look of hesitation on her face. "I don't know if it's such a good idea for Darien to go running off to Mexico in his condition. His body has been through quite a lot," she warned.

"Keep," said Darien, giving her the puppy dog eyes.

"Yes, Darien?" said Claire apprehensively.

"Let's go kick some ass," he said as he stood up from the bed and gave her his best pleading smile.

Claire slowly broke down and returned the smile. "If we must."

"Oh we must," said Alex.

"Let's go, kiddies," said Bobby as he made a beeline for the door. "I'll drive," he said as he walked outside.

"You always get to drive," complained Darien as he followed behind.

"That's because you're driving skills are nonexistent, Fawkes," said Alex as she too stepped outside the door.

"Wait for me," said Claire as she stepped out the door and shut it firmly behind her.

TBC


	14. Part 12

Over the Edge (12/12)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: Sorry this took so long. Hopefully it was worth the wait. Have fun, guys!

Golda was quiet and peaceful as Bobby steered the ancient van along the highway towards Mexico. Claire and Alex 

were in the back, both looking out the window at the passing scenery and sharing a few hushed comments as the miles passed. Darien was out like a light in the passenger's seat, his head pressed up against the window and his hands flopped loosely at his sides. He snored lightly, but other than that, not a sound was coming out of the younger agent.   
Bobby smiled to himself as he took in the peace evident on Darien's face. Despite the bruises of the broken nose, his partner looked healthy, happy and completely at ease, something Bobby had never seen in his two years of friendship and partnership with Darien Fawkes. That expression was all the thanks that Bobby needed for everything that he and the others had done for Darien over the past couple of weeks.   
A sudden case of the giggles turned his attention to the back seat, where he saw Claire and Alex laughing so hard they were practically crying. They were at peace as well. In fact, it seemed that everyone in the van was doing pretty well. Life was good. And a little food would make everything even better, thought Bobby as he noticed a hamburger stand up the road.  
"You guys hungry?" asked Bobby, making eye contact with Claire in the rearview mirror.  
Claire shrugged. "I could eat," she said.  
"Wouldn't want to take down a wanted terrorist on an empty stomach," said Alex.  
Bobby nodded in agreement and pulled into the dusty parking lot of the small roadside stand. He ran over a series of small potholes as he parked, causing Darien to groan and wake up.  
"Hmmm, are we there yet?" yawned Darien, stretching out his long body.  
"Not yet, buddy, just stopping for a little grub," said Bobby.  
Darien's stomach growled on cue. "I don't think I've had a real meal in about a month," he said as he started to get out of the van.  
Bobby looked at his body and nodded. "Lost a few pounds there, Fawkesy. You doing the starvation diet?" he asked as he got out of the van.  
Darien looked up and smiled. "Not anymore," he said as he sauntered towards the counter.  
Bobby, Claire and Alex followed behind and soon, the foursome was enjoying a few cheap hamburgers and some icy cold beers. Claire and Alex were sitting at a table discussing what they planned to do next with their lives, while Bobby and Darien were both leaning against Golda, sipping at their beers.  
"So Fawkes," said Bobby, sipping at his beer. "You're not mad at me for...you know...faking my death?" he asked curiously.  
Darien shrugged and took a sip of his own beer. "I'm just glad you're alive. The gratefulness kind of outweighs the need to be pissed. Plus the fact that, you know...you were pretty much saving my life kind of takes the sting out of the burn."  
"So we're okay then?" asked Bobby hesitantly.  
Darien held out his hand. "We're better than okay."  
Bobby smiled and slapped his hand. "Thanks partner."  
"Think we still are partners?" asked Darien. " I mean, what are we gonna do now?"  
"Fawkes, no matter what happens or where we end up, you will always be my partner. Always,  
said Bobby in a serious tone.  
"That's right, my friend," said Darien happily. He glanced over at Claire and Alex and then looked back at Bobby curiously. "So how did you pull this off? I know...I know... luck...all that crap, but really, how'd you do it? I mean you were covered in blood. And damn it, Hobbes, I saw you on that chair. You were dead."  
Bobby smirked. "It was fake blood, and I was drugged," he said.  
"Fake blood?" said Darien.  
"Fake," said Bobby matter of factly. "Course, I did have to stab myself once in case you decided to turn George Clooney on me and play doctor," he said as he lifted up his shirt and pointed at the healing cut on his chest.  
Darien whistled in appreciation. "It isn't every day you find a guy who'll stab himself for you."  
"Yeah and don't you forget it," said Bobby.  
"What about the Keep? How far was she into it?" asked Darien.  
"Claire came to me. She told me about the Official taking Arnaud's information away and then we both confronted him. When it was pretty clear that the fat bastard wasn't going to budge, we realized that drastic measures were in order," said Bobby.  
"So you faked your death," said Darien.  
"So I faked my death. Figured the Official couldn't stop a dead man, and let's face it Fawkes, if you had known the plan, you would've tipped him off," said Bobby.  
"Would not," said Darien.  
"Right," said Bobby sarcastically. "But seriously, Fawkes, I'm sorry that we had to do that to you. To tell you the truth, I was a little surprised at how much you cared."  
"Why would you be surprised?" asked Darien. "Hobbes...Bobby, when I thought you were dying, I meant what I said. You're my brother," he said, looking down at his feet. "Hell, you're more of a brother to me then Kevin ever was," he said softly.  
Bobby gazed up at Darien with a sincere look in his eye. "That means a lot, man."  
Darien nodded. "Yeah," he said, shuffling his feet. He looked over at Alex and Claire and whistled. "Some mighty fine chicks over there," he teased.  
Claire smiled and waved, blushing slightly.  
"Not on your life, Fawkes," yelled Alex.  
"Yeah, you wish, sister," yelled Darien.  
Alex rolled her eyes and then turned back to Claire.  
Bobby smirked. "You dirty devil," he said knowingly.  
"What?" said Darien innocently.  
"I thought I sensed a little, let's say...chemistry between you and Monroe," said Bobby.  
"What are you talking about?" asked Darien.  
"Uh, huh, you and Monroe. You tamed the wild beast, didn't you, my friend," said Bobby. "Takes a special kind of man to get with a woman like that."  
Darien shrugged.  
"So are you two like dating now?" asked Bobby. "Cause now that we're not officially a part of the company anymore..." 

"No," said Darien interrupted quickly.  
"Too wild for you, huh?" teased Bobby.  
"Not even close, my friend," said Darien confidently.  
"Ahh," said Bobby, nodding. "So was it good?"  
"Hobbes," whined Darien in an embarrassed tone.  
"Fawkes," mocked Bobby right back. "Spill it."  
Darien's face turned bright red. "It was the best sex of my life, okay," he whispered.  
"What was that?" asked Bobby.  
Darien sighed in frustration. "It was the best sex of my life," he said a little louder.

Bobby cupped his ear. "What was that, I couldn't quite make it out?"

"It was the best sex of my life!" yelled Darien, drawing the attention of just about everyone who had stopped at the stand.  
Darien tried to hide behind a smug looking Bobby to avoid the curious stares of the customers while Claire and Alex got out of their chairs and walked towards the two partners.  
"I'd say we've worn out our welcome," said Claire as she clamored into the back of the van.  
"We've worn out something," said Alex. She stepped right up to Darien, smiled sweetly and then punched him hard in the gut, causing him to double over and nearly loose his lunch. "I'd say that about covers it," she said as she too stepped into the back of the van. 

Bobby burst out laughing, while Darien moaned in pain, trying to regain his breath. "Just shut up," he gasped out a few seconds later.  
"Did I say anything?" asked Bobby innocently as he got into the driver's side of the van. "Come on, Casanova, it's time to go kick some butt."  
"Right," said Darien as he finally stood up and painfully made his way back to the van. A few seconds later, they had left the hamburger stand in a cloud of dust to go and tie up a few loose ends.  
**  
"Okay, just a few more miles down this dirt road and we should be there, my friends," said Bobby as he drove Golda towards the hacienda.  
"How are we going to play this? Guns blazing or a little invisible intel?" asked Darien.  
"A little bit of both," said Bobby as he pulled Golda behind the line of shrubbery that he had used as cover a week ago when he had first paid the Swiss man a visit. He put Golda into park and then looked out above the shrubs, noticing right away that something didn't look right. "Aw crap," he whispered.  
"What? What?" asked Darien impatiently.  
"Looks a little quiet. A little too quiet," said Bobby as he stepped out of the van. He was quickly joined by Alex, Claire and Darien.  
"No guards?" asked Alex.  
"No nothing," said Bobby as he took a closer look.  
"I say we have a peak inside anyway," said Darien as he quickly started to walk forward.  
Bobby grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Whoa, wait a minute, you think this is such a good idea?"  
"He might have left some clues. Come on, you know and I know that Arnie loves to play games. He gets off on it," said Darien as he shrugged out of Bobby's grip and continued to walk forward.  
Bobby pulled out his gun and motioned for Alex to do the same. "This is a bad idea," he said as he followed Darien.  
"Hobbesy, calm down man. Looks like the place is completely deserted anyway. What's it gonna hurt?" he said.  
Claire, who was still standing by the van looking at tad apprehensive, quickly ran to catch up. "Guys, wait for me," she said as she caught up to Bobby.  
"I got your back, sweetheart," said Bobby.  
Claire smiled and then eyed Bobby seriously. "Give me a gun," she said firmly.  
"What?" asked Bobby as they continued to walk.  
"Come on, Bobby, I need a gun," she said.  
Bobby paused and took the gun out of his ankle holster, handing it to Claire. "Shoot to kill."  
"Oh great, so I'm the only one without a gun?" said Darien sarcastically.  
"Fawkes, you couldn't hit a Mac truck standing two feet in front of you," said Alex.  
Darien mocked laughed.   
"Shhhh," whispered Bobby.  
The foursome quickly shut up as they approached the large house. They reached the front door and cautiously put their ears against the door. "I don't hear anything," said Claire.  
Bobby eyed Alex and motioned for Claire and Darien to step back. Then he and Alex simultaneously kicked at the door, smashing it open. What greeted them was a whole lot of nothing.  
"Great," said Darien as he stepped through the doorway.   
"Arnie cleared out of here pretty fast," said Bobby as he headed towards Arnaud's office.  
"Being wanted by every government agency in the world has a tendency to do that to a guy. Especially when a Fed knows where you're hide out is," said Darien as he followed Bobby towards the office, while Claire and Alex spread out to check the rest of the house.  
As Bobby and Darien stepped into the office, Bobby noticed that the desk was still there, a white envelope sitting on the top. He stepped closer and picked it up, noticing it was addressed to Darien. "You've got mail, pal," he said as he handed the envelope to Darien.  
Darien eyed it curiously and tore it open, discovering that it was a simple typed letter.  


Dearest Fawkes,  
If you're reading this, then I can only assume that your partner was successful in giving you the cure. For that, I congratulate you. Unfortunately, I know how your mind works and I couldn't take the chance that you would come after me and take back the quicksilver. So I suppose this means goodbye. I'll see you in hell.  
  
A  
  
"I'll see you in hell," said Darien, waving the letter at Bobby.  
A sudden beep caused Bobby's eyes to go wide. "Aw crap, it's a trap!" he yelled as he shoved Darien out of the office. "Get out! Get out! Get out!" he yelled. "Run!"  
Claire and Alex came tearing out of the kitchen and the foursome sprinted towards the doorway. They had barely made it out of the house before the entire hacienda suddenly exploded into a giant fireball sending the four friends tumbling to the ground, debris pummeling them and smoke overpowering their lungs. The agents lay dazed on the ground as the house slowly burned away, the heat from the blaze causing their skin to burn and their body to sweat. Darien picked himself off the ground after a few minutes and eyed the others. "Everybody okay?" he asked.  
Bobby nodded and slowly picked himself off the ground, followed by Alex and then Claire. 

"We're fine," said Claire reassuringly.

Darien nodded in relief and then nodded towards the van. "Let's go home, guys," he said softly.  
The trio nodded in agreement and then slowly stalked off towards the van, not quite sure what home was anymore.  
  
TBC  


  
  
  



	15. Epilogue

Over the Edge (Epilogue)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: Well this is it guys, hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for all the feedback and reviews, it means a lot! Coming next: a little D/C/B adventure story that will be a cross between Indiana Jones and an awful movie that I love called Vertical Limit. I also might shell out a Devil's Silver story and another standalone. That's about all for now. Enjoy the end, kiddies!

In the two months since Darien had been free of quicksilver madness, the lives of the Official's three best agents and his brilliant doctor had changed dramatically. Claire had gone to work at the Department of Defense where she was developing vaccinations against chemical warfare. Alex had entered the local office of the CIA where she was given a small anti-terrorist unit to run. Bobby had landed a job at a local security company, keeping tabs on the lives and homes of VIPs. Darien was currently a free agent, loaning himself out to various government agencies that needed his unique abilities.

All in all, things had been good. They all had money. They all had good jobs. They were all free from the claws of the Official. But, they were all a little bored. And maybe a little lonely. 

Since they didn't get to see each other every day like they were used to, it was decided amongst the four that every Sunday would be dinner night. Each week, they had gathered at one of their respective apartments and cooked dinner and drank beer until the wee hours of the morning. It made Monday morning meetings a little hard to face, but it more than made up for the lost time between the foursome since they had quit the Agency.

This particular Sunday was no exception. They were all at Darien's apartment, looking forward to a giant vat of spaghetti and the baseball game. Darien had slaved all day over the stove and was just about ready to serve his masterpiece.

"You wait any longer to serve the food there, buddy, and I'm going to waste away to nothing," said Bobby in a irritated voice as he sipped on his beer while parked in front of the TV.

"Just keep your pants on, I'll be right there," said Darien as he sprinkled some seasoning over the large bowl. He glanced over at Alex and Claire who were sitting at the dinner table, discussing work. "Do you two want cheese on this or are you watching your girlish figures?"

"I'll take some cheese," chimed Claire.

"Me too," said Alex.

"All right," said Darien as he took a bottle of cheese and covered the whole bowl with the white powder. He picked up the bowl and brought it over to the kitchen table, setting it right in front of Alex. "Dinner is served."

"Bout time," said Bobby as he got off the couch and headed towards the table.

"Oh Darien, this looks great," said Claire as she took a deep whiff of the spaghetti.

"Thank you, thank you very much," said Darien as he stepped back into the kitchen and returned a second later with a tray of garlic bread and a few bottles of beer. "Bon Apetit, kids," he said as he sat back down with a beer in his hand. 

The foursome started serving themselves eagerly.

"So Bobby, how goes the new job? They give you your own office yet?" asked Darien as he began eating a piece of garlic bread.

Bobby nodded. "Oh yeah. Leather couches, leather chairs, beautiful desk, high tech computer, the works," he said through mouthfuls of spaghetti.

"Sounds beautiful," said Claire.

"Yeah, yeah," said Bobby softly. "You'll have to come by and see it."

"Maybe on a lunch break," said Claire.

"What about you, Fawkes?" asked Alex. "How's it feel to be the government's golden boy?"

Darien shrugged. "Not too shabby. I get to travel and they pay me a lot."

"Stick you with a partner yet, partner?" asked Bobby.

"On the last assignment they did. Guy was just out of Langley. To him, I was the senior," said Darien.

"That's a scary thought," whispered Alex under her breath.

"What was that?" asked Darien.

"Nothing," said Alex innocently.

Darien rolled his eyes and then turned to talk to Claire. "What about you, Keep? Save the world yet?"

Claire smiled. "Not even close."

Darien nodded. "I hear that, sister."

They all sat in silence for a few minutes, lost in their thoughts and chewing their food. Darien was about to comment on the baseball game when they all heard a knock at the door. Darien quickly got up and opened the door, revealing a shy looking Eberts standing before him with an armload of files. "Ebes!" said Darien excitedly. He stepped forward and embraced the file clerk, taking both Eberts and himself by surprise.

"Hello Darien," said Eberts.

"Come in, man, come in," said Darien as he gave him a shove inside the apartment.

"Hello Eberts," said Bobby sarcastically.

"Robert," said Eberts as he got fully inside the apartment.

Darien cleared away a section of the table for Eberts to sit down. "Here, join us for dinner, there's plenty to go around."

"On no, I couldn't," said Eberts.

"Sure you could, Albert," said Claire as she shoved a plate in front of him.

"So how's the office, Eberts?" asked Alex.

"Yeah," said Darien, gazing at the file folders. "What've you got there?"

Eberts handed the folders to Darien. "This is just some information the Agency thought you might like to have."

"What is it?" asked Darien as he started flipping through the files.

"Some intel on Chrysalis and one Arnaud De Phon," said Eberts as he started picking at a piece of garlic bread.

Darien looked up at him curiously. "And you're just gonna give me this? Why? As a gift? What?"

"The Official thought you might like to have it," said Eberts.

"Ah," said Darien, nodding in understanding. He gazed into Eberts eyes and tilted his head, detecting that Eberts was holding something back. "He's here, isn't he?" asked Darien.

Eberts nodded slowly. "Downstairs in the car."

Darien nodded and looked at the others. "I'm gonna go have a little chat with are former employer," he said as he stood up from the table and stepped towards the door.

"Give him hell, Fawkesy," said Bobby.

"Oh don't worry, I will," said Darien as he stepped out the door. He jogged down the stairs and then quickly made his way outside, spotting the Agency issued car almost instantly. He let the quicksilver flow over his skin and then made his way around the car, where he saw the Official staring off into space from the passenger's seat. He stepped around and opened the driver's side door, causing the Official to jump in surprise. "Fawkes?" he yelled out.

Darien sat down in the driver's seat and let the quicksilver drop. "Present."

The Official put his hand to his chest. "You nearly gave me a heart attack, kid."

Darien shrugged. "Yeah well, that was the idea."

The Official grumbled and then stared straight ahead, not wanting to make eye contact. 

Darien did the same, refusing to look his former boss in the eyes. "So what's with the files?" he asked in a curious tone.

"Just thought you could use them, that's all," said the Official.

Darien laughed. "Yeah right. You just thought you could drag me back to the Agency with em'"

"Maybe," said the Official. "Are you saying there's no chance of that happening?"

Darien shrugged. "I don't know. I can't trust you, that's for sure."

"But you admit you miss it?" said the Official nonchalantly.

"I don't miss you, if that's what you mean. But I miss the chaos, the good times, the action…you know, taking down two bit Swiss punks like Arnaud or techno freaks like Chrysalis…crap like that," said Darien.

"You don't have to miss it," said the Official. "I want you back. I need you back."

"Of course you do," said Darien. "But how do I know you don't screw me over again the second I walk in the door?"

The Official shrugged. "I guess you don't. All that I can tell you is to trust me."

Darien snorted. "That's kind of hard, considering what you've put me through."

The Official sighed. "Look, Fawkes. I was wrong, okay. I didn't realize what I was doing. I put your life in jeopardy and I potentially screwed up my own future."

"That's right, always thinking of yourself," said Darien.

"Yeah I was," said the Official. "I thought I could control everything. I thought everything would be okay. Then when I realized it wasn't, I tried like hell to pretend like it had never happened."

"What, like I never existed or something?" asked Darien.

The Official nodded. "Something like that," he said. "It wasn't personal. And for the record, I felt bad about it.

"Wow," said Darien. "I didn't know you had a conscience."

"Well I do. It's not very big and it doesn't work that well anymore, but occasionally, it still breaks through," said the Official. He finally turned his head and looked over at Darien. "I want you back."

Darien started to talk, but the Official interrupted.

"I know, I know, it's selfish and for my own reasons. But guess what, kid? It's where you belong and you know it," said the Official.

Darien sighed and turned his head, staring the Official in the eyes. "Okay, let's say I do want to come back. What are you offering?"

The Official cringed slightly. "What do you want?"

"Oh, I don't know, a raise, vacations, a new car…oh and I would like my fellow coworkers back, all with raises as well," said Darien.

The Official grumbled. "Fine."

"And there's one more thing I want," said Darien.

"What's that?" asked the Official apprehensively.

"I want an apology," said Darien. "A real apology."

The Official sighed heavily. "I'm sorry."

Darien rolled his eyes. "Put a little feeling in it, sir."

"Fine," said the Official. "Fawkes…Darien…I'm sorry for what I did. It was selfish, cruel, and evil. I didn't mean it and if I could take everything back, I would," he said sincerely. "How's that?"

Darien slowly nodded up and down, a small smile spreading across his face. "Not bad. I guess I sort of owe you an apology too. Sorry for…you know…trying to kill you."

The Official nodded. "Apology accepted."

Darien wiped his forehead. "Well that's a big weight off."

The Official smirked. "You start tomorrow. I'll take care of notifying everyone's new workplaces," he said.

"Well, I don't know chief, the Keep, Hobbes and Monroe…they might want to negotiate new contracts of their own," said Darien.

"Don't push it, Fawkes," said the Official.

Darien smiled and started to get out of the car. "You wanna join us up there? I made spaghetti."

The Official shook his head. "No thanks. I think I'm just going to sit down here and watch the cars go by."

Darien nodded. "Well, if you change your mind…"

"Maybe later," said the Official.

"Okay," said Darien. "I'll see ya tomorrow, chief. Around noon," he said as he started walking off. 

"Fawkes," grumbled the Official, but Darien was already out of earshot. The Official turned around and watched Darien slowly saunter back towards the apartment building. He sighed slightly and a small smile spread across his face. "Welcome home, guys, welcome home."

That's All Folks


End file.
